


If it was easy, anyone would do it !

by Perfectdream



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Break Up, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Promises of love, True Love, Use of songs, mention of marriage, solo careers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfectdream/pseuds/Perfectdream
Summary: “I'm not changing my mind because you can finally admit that you miss me.”, Harry added, still whispering hoping that it would still convey his conviction. He couldn't speak louder, couldn't break the bubble they were in. It felt like home.“I know...”, Louis breathed, pain interlaced with the words. Harry could feel it deep inside him. He was amazed at how much they were still connected. They had been one for so many years it was hard to dissociate himself from the love of his life. Louis will always be it.“It's too late, Lou.”, Harry declared, his voice more sure than his heart.“I'm aware.”, Louis murmured, broken but collected. “I guess I let the world make me lose sight of it all. And now I'm seeing clearly.”, he explained, his words painful to say and to hear too. It had to be said. Now. “I love you, I will always be utterly and tremendously in love with you, Haz.”, he hushed again and Harry's heart broke a little bit more.OrAlmost 8 years of an unconditional love but now it's too late. Harry had to let go not to break apart.Louis can't stop loving him, but is he ready to fight for it?Can love be enough when dreams are broken?





	1. Intro.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)
> 
> I've had the blank page syndrome for months until I read this amazing story : http://archiveofourown.org/works/12973491/chapters/29659152
> 
> She woke my inspiration back up with her words.
> 
> Thanks Eve <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new story. I didn't translate it but tried to write it directly in english, I'm sorry for any mistake. :)

The view Harry had from this comfortable couch was nice, that was true. New York's skyline was amazing, mesmerizing even; his heart wasn't content anymore, that was all. He sighed as someone knocked on the door of his hotel room.

He had an apartment in the city, yet he preferred to pay for a room when he was meeting with journalists or photographers. His home was the only thing that was really his. He refused to let people he was working with enter his refuge. Only his friends and family were welcomed there.

So he was again in this beautiful room in an expensive hotel. The view was the best thing at the beginning, now his heart wasn't beating as fast anymore. It doesn't take his breath away, beautiful as it may be, for Harry has learned there are things – people – much more enchanting than any skyline or horizon out there.

 

“ **Are you dressed?** ”, asked Jo, his agent.

 

He laughed without joyless.

 

“ **Yeah. I'm not always naked, you know?** ”, he replied without looking away from the skyscrapers in front of him. He couldn't explain it: even if he didn't enjoy it anymore, he spent his time watching it nonetheless.

 

“ **Last time I came in, I saw your butt dancing, darling.** ”, she said with a smile. He smiled too.

 

“ **Are you ready?** ”

 

He sighed again and stood up, resigned in a way. 

 

“ **As ready as I will ever be.** ”

 

Jo sat on the edge of the couch, her phone in her hand and what seemed to be the schedule of the day on her lap.

 

“ **Harry...** ”, she said and she didn't need to add anything, is the sad thing. He turned on his heels to finally face her. She didn't need to look at his eyes to know how somber he looked. He tried to smile, almost managing it.

 

“ **I'll be alright.** ”, he calmed her.

 

She put her notes on the couch and stood to approach him until she was face to face with him. His gaze was veiled and she knew why.

 

“ **I know. You're always alright...** ” she paused for a few seconds. “ **Or at least you always look like it. I admire you in a way.** ”, she started, but was interrupted by her phone ringing. She answered.

 

Harry took a step forward, smoothed his trousers with his hands, passed a hand in his hair and considered himself to be ready to go. He checked if his phone was in his pocket. Jo hung up, turned to him.

 

“ **Are we going?** ”, she asked. He nodded.

 

They took the elevator to the third floor to go to the room where a journalist was waiting for Harry. He tried to do as many interviews as he could before taking his plane in the evening, this was the last one of the day. He needed to go away, forget about New York for a while. Forget about the bustle of the city and forget about the people with dollar signs in their eyes. He trained his smile in the corridor before Jo opened the door. As soon as he would step inside he would have to be perfect, he knew it. It was easy now, he had so much experience.

 

“ **Hello** ”, he said while entering the room, a bright smile painted on his face. Harry Styles "the popstar" smile. The woman here to interview him was a stranger to him which was uncommon, almost made the whole affair interesting. Almost. Usually he knew the journalists, at least by sight. He had done so many interviews in the last few years with so many TV-channels, websites and magazines, he thought he knew them all. Apparently he didn't.

 

“ **Hi, I'm Clara. Nice to meet you.** ”, she said politely while shaking his hand. He smiled back at her, nice and as warm as he could. He kindly aimed his smile towards the other people in the room, saying his round of hellos before sitting down (after having said hello to each person in the room). It was a small committee which made him feel at ease. As ease as he'll ever feel under a dozen pairs of curious eyes of strangers."

 

“ **Can we start right away?** ” she asked, looking at her notes. The interview was supposed to last twenty minutes. Or thirty if the questions were interesting. But no longer. Harry had a flight to catch later and he still hadn't packed his suitcase. What does one take when fleeing to another city?? Harry was still not sure... 

 

“ **Yes, please.** ”, he answered, still smiling even if his heart was aching. It was personal, nobody else's business.

 

Clara asked a few questions about his album, the promo, the tour before she moved onto something more personal. Harry looked at Jo for a split second, letting her know he wasn't really comfortable answering so she would be ready to interrupt the interview at any given moment.

 

“ **Now that your album is out, the tour going really well... What about a second album?** ”, she was writing down some of his answers. Harry guessed it was only to keep herself busy as they were being filmed. He had to admit that he appreciated the few seconds he had away from her gaze after each question.

 

“ **Um...** ”, he hesitated. Jo was already standing behind the camera. Harry let out a sigh of relief. She was ready to defend him if need be. “ **It's kind of hard to say. I'm normally more inspired by heartbreak. I'm one of those artists who feed on love. And right now...** ”, he chose to keep the end to himself. Clara wrote it all down.

 

“ **Yes, now that you've been single for so long, it might be hard to find inspiration.** ”, she said as if she understood his feelings. Harry smiled and nodded. “ **Maybe it might be time to look for love again? Find someone to share all of this with?** ”, she said and Jo stepped forward.

 

“ **I'm sorry we'll have to cut it here. We're on a schedule today. Thanks a lot.** ”, she shook Clara's hand. Harry stood up, smiling. He said goodbye to the whole crew. Once the door fell shut behind him, he sighed out a breath he didn't even notice he was holding.

 

“ **That bad, huh?** ”, Jo asked.

 

They went back to his room for him to pick up his things. The taxi was already waiting in front of the hotel. Jo was already on the phone while Harry hadn't even closed the cab door. That was amazing, as long as she was busy he wouldn't have to talk to her. He was still thinking about this interview. The last question especially.

 

Why did people always feel concerned about his love life? In what world is it related to him and his music?

 

He felt like crying, not for the first time and surely not for the last. He clenched his fists on the fabric of his trousers. Jo patted her hand gently, a reassuring smile on her face. He tried to smile but it only ended in a tremble of his lips.

 

“ **It will get better, you know?** ”, she said.

 

Harry wasn't sure if it was a question or a fact. Because, truth be told, he didn't know. He knew nothing about it all. He had no clue. Will it ever get better? Was he supposed to feel this broken forever?

 

“ **Maybe a change of scenery will do you good...** ”, she added once she saw a glimpse of sadness if his green orbs. Harry isn't sure if she believed her own words.

 

“ **I hope so.** ”, he said, nonetheless.

 

He really hoped to feel better.

 

A few hours later he was on the plane, his head against the window. It took him nearly an hour to pack his suitcase. He spent time adding clothes and then taking them out. He sighed, something that he seems to be doing a lot lately. He wonders if he ever did it before. His heartbeat a little faster at the idea of going away for a while. He told Jo he wasn't sure when he would come back. She agreed. It wasn't like he was on the other side of the planet, he was going to Los Angeles. He was, in the end, only a plane away.

 

When the plane landed, Harry was feeling better. The weather was warm even if the night had already fallen upon the city. Harry hoped for something good. Something better. Maybe this time it could go as he wished for it to go. Maybe...

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he was waiting for his suitcase. His heartbeat faster suddenly.

 

He opened the text.

 

“ **Lou**

 

Message : _Sorry, Haz. I can't meet you at the airport. I don't know if I'll be able to meet you at all during your stay in LA. Miss you though. Love you <3_”

 

Harry put his phone back in his pocket. Quiet, hollow feeling ebbed at the outskirts of his body, slowly crawling closer to his heart. He picked up his suitcase twenty minutes later, mind blank. He asked Jo to have his car driven to the airport so he wouldn't have to take a taxi. He put his luggage in the trunk, sat behind the wheel and drove away.

 

He drove for a couple of minutes, enough time to get away from the airport, awat from the tourists; then he parked the car on the side of the road. He screamed inside his car. Screamed and let the tears roll down his face. He was sobbing a few moments later but didn't try to stop it. He needed to feel this pain.

 

Damn it! He hoped to see Louis. Hoped to hold him, touch him. Kiss him. It had been weeks with only phone calls and texts. Sometimes a day or two would go by without any interaction between them and it was killing him. It hadn't always been like this. It shouldn't be like this.

 

He needed his boyfriend. Now maybe more than ever.

 

But they weren't allowed to be seen together. Harry wasn't sure he could stand it any longer.

 

His heart wasn't that strong. He couldn't lose Louis.

 

What if the choice was between losing Louis or losing his mind. Which one would he choose? He didn't know.

 

Harry missed Louis. He needed to see him whatever the price. He would pay the price. In a second.

 

Would Louis be ready to do the same?


	2. Chapter 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eve, you're a life savior ! 
> 
> This story is going pretty good right now, meaning I have some chapters done. 
> 
> I'm really working hard on this one and I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> Leave your opinions, it really helps me <3

His luggage was in the hallway along with his coat which was lying on the floor, abandoned. Harry threw it all on the floor as soon as the door closed behind him. He was finally home. His real home. His apartment in New York was nice and he chose it himself so he must like it a little, but this house in Los Angeles was different.

He bought it years ago, having still in mind that Louis and him would soon move to the city of angels and start their lives together. It was like a gift to his boyfriend that he never had the occasion on gifting. The night Harry wanted to tell him about this home, Louis had told him he couldn't give it all up for their love.

And Harry hadn't insisted any longer. He smiled and nodded in silence. What was there to add?

 

Harry sighed as he wandered through the rooms. Everything was done with taste, decorated just as he liked. What broke his heart was that, deep inside him, he knew that they could be really happy here _._ The kitchen was painted in grey and light lilac, big enough to cook delicious meals in. In the living room there were enough couches to host movie nights with all of their friends. A chest with a ton of plaids to feel comfortable. Harry had thought to put cushions because Louis had always said that a living room without enough cushions was like a tea with no milk: not possible!

 

The wooden floors had been a love at first sight kind of thing for Harry. He had always dreamed about having a house with wooden floors to slid along with socks on, his children in tow. This thought made him wince. Everything was so painful.

 

He opened the large glass door and stepped outside. The garden was... magical. It was large, much too big for someone with a job like Harry's, always on the move, never settling. But it was colourful and Harry's. At the end of the grass was a big stone-floored terrace. Harry had always thought they would wake up in the morning, relaxed by the chirping of birds, watching the sun rising over the skyline of the city. They would be together, a cup of coffee in their hands. They would be happy, in love, at peace.

 

That was a dream Harry had to give up some months ago, finally facing the truth that their relationship was withering away, that he couldn't save it all by himself. He was losing his strength. He couldn't be the only one on the battlefield. He felt as if his armor was lying on the floor next to him leaving him feeling vulnerable and fragile.

 

Harry walked to the terrace and sat on one of the deckchairs he had chosen with one single thing in mind: lying there with Louis by his side. The house was so remote from his neighbors that they could be free here without having to worry about people seeing them, or paparazzi spying on them. Damn it, he had bought their dream house and here he was, alone and sad.

 

Louis didn't send him any other messages besides the one he had read earlier. He had felt his heart breaking. It's not like they couldn’t see each other much, it was that Louis had decided they wouldn't. Not even when the opportunity basically presented itself, not even then. Maybe out of fear, or maybe because he didn't feel like it anymore. Harry was too scared to ask.

 

That was perhaps the biggest doubt that was eating at Harry. The infinitesimal possibility that Louis might not be in love with him anymore and just didn't know how to break the news to him. The thought was gnawing away at his heart, had been doing so for a while now. And Harry knew he's emotional, one of his best traits, but as his mother often reminded him, also possibly his worst, in some way. But even so, he felt the strangling pressure of unshed tears climbing up his throat, itching at the sensitive skin of his windpipe.

 

Harry stood up, his hand clasped on his tee-shirt. He felt as if he was suffocating. He couldn't do it, couldn't stand it. He let a tear roll down his cheek, not fighting the pain. He went back inside, letting the night keep his sadness a secret. Like his love life, it was nobody's business. He felt like he had given up enough of his life for his career and wasn't willing to give up what was left of his personal life. He had fought for his relationship with Louis for so many years that he couldn't give up now. But what if Louis wasn't willing to protect it? What if he didn't care anymore?

 

Harry closed the door and looked around. Everything could have been so perfect. He felt empty.

 

He didn't bother picking up his luggage from the floor, instead climbing upstairs. He stood in front of the room that was supposed to be their bedroom. Harry sighed again. He pushed the handle, looking around. The bed was in the middle, looking comfortable and cocooning. The pillows and the cushions had been added for Louis. Harry asked himself what he had done that was not for Louis... It was the first time in forever that the thought actually scared him a little. Just a little.

 

He undressed and, again, let it all fall on the floor. Once he was naked, he slipped under the covers of his cloud of a bed. His phone was downstairs inside the coat that he'd abandoned in the hallway. Harry didn't feel like going back down. Not if it was to discover no new texts from Louis. He tossed and turned for hours before finally falling asleep, exhausted by the hurt.

 

In the morning it was like nothing had changed as it was, in the same time, totally different. Harry stood up, still fully naked and maybe Jo was right when she said that he almost always is naked when she comes in. The thought amuses him slightly _._ The sun was high in the sky, lunch time just around the corner. Harry pulled on his yoga pants, skintight but a breathing material, along with a white t-shirt. He stepped down the stairs quickly, in a hurry to get out and breathe some fresh air. He closed the door behind him and made his feet work, the jogging pace coming easy to him after years of doing it. As he feels his muscles warming up, he picks up the pace and starts running.

 

When he ran, he forgot about everything else. There was only his footsteps on the asphalt, his breath, his heartbeat, the warmth of the sun on his skin. When he was running he was whole again. Whole and healed. He needed this feeling to not fall apart just yet. He ran and ran, accustomed to the strain in his legs, but forcing his feet to carry him for an hour at least, pleasant burn aching in his body when he reached the house again. The house he always called 'theirs' in his mind. He loved it as much as he hated it. The idea was scaring. Because if he was really honest, he had to admit that his whole world was turning around Louis, and the thought that if Louis didn't want him anymore, he would have almost nothing left except for his music and family. Well, a part of his family, considering that Louis was his family too.

 

He growled once he was in his garden, beautiful flowers all around him, none of which provided him the happiness he wanted of them.

 

“ **Shit, stop thinking about him!** ”, he screamed in the peace of his backyard. That was the main difference why he grew to dislike New York: cramped between the skyscrapers he couldn't find a spot in the city where he could scream freely without ending up in the tabloids with a title such as “ _Harry gone mad_ ”, or “ _The endless repertoire of women finally got to Harry Styles_ ”, something like that. As disgusting as that or even worse.

 

He threw his trainers on the floor. Normally he was organized and neat but not today. Today he would do as he wanted. Not caring about it all. The kitchen's cold floor made him shiver and he was glad. That was proof he was still feeling something else than emptiness. And numbness.

 

He put the kettle on absentmindedly, taking a cup out of the cupboard. He shivered again, for a different reason, when he realized it was the one Louis gave him for one of their anniversaries.

 

He was lost in his thoughts when his phone rang, startling him. He thought, for a minute, about letting it go to voice mail. But, in the back of his mind, the possibility that it might be Louis was still alive. He couldn't let go of this last string of hope.

 

It was indeed Louis' name flashing on his phone screen _._ Harry picked up without a second thought.

 

“ **Hello?** ”

 

" **Finally! Where have you been?** " Louis' screechy voice demanded. " **I've been calling since last night without getting an answer. You worried the shit out of me, H. Can you imagine how I was feeling?** ", Louis' voice was high and uneven, but Harry couldn't rejoice about it. Louis being worried was a sign that he still cared, and yet, Harry wasn't feeling better. Not in the slightest.

 

“ **I'm fine.** ”, Harry answered, voice quiet but certain.

 

Louis stayed quiet for a few seconds.There was so much left unsaid between them, Harry could feel it, still he didn't add anything.

 

“ **Haz...** ”, Louis paused. “ **Haz... what if something had happened?** ”, he whispered, worried. Harry went back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea, with honey and a splash of milk, no more _,_ no less, just as Louis had made him appreciate over time.

 

“ **I'm fine.** ”, Harry said again. He leaned against the worktop, his gaze lost on the garden.

 

“ **I tried calling at least twenty times.** ”, Louis said, he sounded exhausted. Harry checked his phone and the truth was that Louis had called thirty-two times. He still cared enough to have called so many times. It made Harry breathe better.

 

“ **I'm sorry, I went directly to bed.** ”, Harry felt like he needed to explain, not really sure why. Or maybe because he still cared about their relationship.

 

“ **Okay...** ”, Louis sighed on the other end, true to his word sounding tired. “ **Okay.** ”

 

They both went silent for a while. Harry sipped on his tea, letting the hot liquid warm up his body and what was left of his soul.

 

“ **Did you get my text yesterday?** ”, Louis finally asked. A part of Harry wanted to hang up and act like this text never existed, another part of him was hurting more than he was yesterday.

 

“ **Yes.** ”, he whispered.

 

“ **Haz...** ”, Louis started to say but Harry didn't let him finish.

 

“ **Don't, Louis.** ”, he cut in. Louis took a deep breath. Harry knew how he must have been standing, one foot on the other, his free hand playing with the holes in his jeans.

 

“ **You don't even know what I was about to say.** ”, Louis objected.

 

“ **Yes, Louis, I do.** " Harry easily answered as he started rattling off the list of reasons and excuses he's so used to getting from the other man, " **You were about to say that you are sorry, that you really did try to make time for me, that you really did want to see me but that we are not allowed to and that it wasn't worth of risking everything we have to just see each other for a couple of hours, or even minutes. I know it all.** ”, Harry declaimed, his heart was breaking even more at each word he pronounced.

 

“ **I never said it wasn't worth it, Haz.** ”, Louis finally said, his voice breaking. Harry felt the tears coming, he was on the edge of falling apart, he could feel it. He played with his cup, trying to occupy his mind. He wanted to drive to Louis' place and face him. Smell him, feel him next to him. Maybe even kiss him. He missed him so much...

 

“ **It was implied.** ”, Harry felt like he couldn't control his voice anymore, the pain was too big of a thing now but he didn't want to make Louis feel guilty. So he cleared his throat before talking again, hoping his voice would not break. “ **Sorry, Jo is calling, I have to go. Take care.** ”, he said quickly.

 

“ **I'm....** ”, he cut the line before he could listen to what Louis was about to answer. He couldn't handle it. He felt his legs become weak underneath him and the next thing he knew he was on the floor crying his eyes out. He was full on sobbing in minutes.With the hot, salty tears streaming down his cheeks, Harry wondered when had his life come to this. When had it become a thing for his knees to have bruises on them from hugging the floor, teardrops splashing on the ground, noiseless. Harry's body had gotten weak, giving in to his mind and heart much faster than it had done years ago. He sort of loathed it.

When he ran out of tears _,_ finally _,_ he stood back up and made a quiet promise to himself that it was the last time that he let himself stoop so low. He refused to let himself go to waste, he had to fight and if it wasn't for what they had, it will be for what he had, for who he was. He wouldn't drown in this sea of tears. He wasn't that tragic of a person, not quite yet _._

 

If only Louis could come and show him that he was still here.

 

Love wasn't the answer, not to everything _,_ maybe, but Harry was sure that it was his. Louis was his answer. His prayer, his solace. Louis could break it all or build it back up again. Harry wanted it to be different, but it had always been this way. It was written down in one of those books the archeologists keep finding from the ancient Egypt, Harry's sure of it, because what other explanation is there?

 

_But_ , Harry thought to himself, his gaze lingering on the wet spots on the floor, _w_ _hat if Louis really didn't want to be with Harry anymore?_

 


	3. Chapter 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems to me that you like this story so here's a new chapter. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> This chapter was written in a way that I would recommend listening to 'Ever since New York' while reading !!
> 
> Enjoy. xo

The phone call was turning around and around in Harry's mind, so much that he kind of began to feel dizzy. It could also come from the fact that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday's lunch, from his one hour long run, all the emotions or the energy it took him to cry that much on his kitchen's floor merely minutes ago. He was still kneeling on the floor, his phone abandoned on the worktop near his head. It dinged but Harry didn't look at it. He needed peace. He needed strength. He needed to feel whole again, to heal those wounds which were still bleeding.

 

Did Louis have any idea?

 

Harry forced himself to stand up and walked upstairs, taking in all the silence surrounding him. This silence he had wished for while he was trapped in the busy streets of New York. He hoped for it, and, now that he was here, all alone, more alone that he ever thought he would be, the silence was deafening. Smothering. Excruciating really, when he imagined this house filled with music, laughter, chatter and maybe, _maybe_ , even children one day.

 

This one something that Louis seemed to have forgotten by now, the fact that Harry and him had always talked about growing old together, building their own family, having children. They had spent so many nights, lying side by side, talking about it all. Harry made the mistake of holding on to it for years, whereas Louis appeared to have let it all go.

 

Was that the problem? That he didn't see himself with Harry anymore?

 

Harry could handle it. He thought he could. To be honest, he didn't really think he could, but it wasn't the point.

 

As he felt tears come back to his eyes, he passed a hand into his hair then on his face. He took a deep, shivering breath. His muscles were sore from the run and the sobbing, two things he didn't really should have done this morning. He had a bad night sleep, was kind of jet-lagged.

 

He went to the bathroom, leaving the lights off. He knew what he needed, right about now. He turned the faucet to let hot water flow into the bathtub. He had chosen a big one, big enough to be able to take baths with the man he loved. They used to take a bath at least once a week together, to unwind, to forget about all the rest and only focus on themselves. Leaving all the rest on the doorstep.

 

The bath-bomb he put in was smelling fresh and citrusy. It reminded him of one morning – no, not one morning, but of that morning, when Louis had woken up earlier than him and went to the bakery down the street to buy some pastries. They made a feast out of it. The night before they had made love for the first time in Harry's new apartment years ago. Louis wished to celebrate it, in a way, for it was a new step for them even after years together. Harry had felt so much joy and love he had thought he could burst. He was so in love, so protected like nothing could break them apart. That's how he had felt.

 

How wrong he was.

 

He went back downstairs to pour himself a glass of white wine. Normally he wasn't a big drinker, certainly not before three p.m that was for sure, but, as his granny always said : “ Desperate times call for desperate measures.”. So it was time for a drink. He trotted back up without spilling a drop, which made him proud of himself. He trotted back up without spilling a drop, child-like pride tickling his chest and tugging at his lips _._ The bathtub was almost filled to the brim. He shed his clothes slowly, enjoying every move, trying to reconnect with his body. Sadness always made him feel like his body and mind were disconnected, he needed to claim it back.

 

It was his body, his life.

 

He put a foot in the water, noting that the temperature was too hot but he still stepped in and let himself be submerged. He turned off the faucet and grabbed his glass that was waiting on the side. He sighed.

 

“ **Well...** ”, Harry stated. He didn't add anything because there was nothing else to say. The air in the room was warm and humid, Harry knew that his hair would curl at the nape of his neck in minutes but he didn't care. He sipped on his whine and closed his eyes, letting himself relax. When he shut his eyes he could imagine he was elsewhere. Back in Cheshire, in his mum's bathroom. He wished he was there. He needed his mom's embrace. Telling her all about his heartbreak, his doubts and listening to what she would have to say to him. Getting drunk on her voice. Instead he was getting drunk on wine and pain.

 

He almost fell asleep, the warm water seeping through his skin, causing his sore muscles to go pliant. Harry felt like he was in control, despite the heaviness the drowsing brought with it. On the edge of tipping to an actual sleep, a memory surfaced, taking him by surprise, as nothing about this moment should have connected him to another one in the past. But now it had.

 

It was early morning on a Thursday, Harry had a day off, the first in forever. He was dancing in the kitchen of his apartment, only wearing his underwear. He hesitated between making himself some pancakes or being reasonable and drinking a smoothie. He was still debating with himself when someone knocked on his front door. He furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing who could that be, he'd not invited anyone over today. Jo always called before coming around unannounced, Louis was on tour, his mom was in England with Gemma and his friends didn't know his new address. With questions filling his mind he opened the door. He almost let a shriek escape his mouth when he saw Louis, his hood up and a sheepish smile on his lips.

 

“ **I'm here.** ”, Louis stated and it was that simple. It was simple and it was Louis _._ Harry smiled timidly: every time they didn't see each other for a long period of time, Harry felt like they were back at the beginning of their relationship with all the shyness and hesitations.

 

“ **You're here.** ”, he repeated. They looked at each other as if they hadn't seen in months. It was almost the truth. The last time they met in person was three weeks ago. Way too long. Harry grabbed Louis by the collar and pulled him to his chest, closing the door with his foot. Louis didn't have time to talk, his mouth already against Harry's. That was exactly what they needed.

 

Contact. Kisses. Skin on skin experience.

 

In this moment Harry understood what his mother was talking about when he was still a kid or a teenager. She used to say that after giving birth to her two kids she had this need to feel her babies, to touch their skin, sense their heartbeat. It was visceral, urgent. Harry didn't know what to make of it that he now felt that same urge to hold Louis, so he didn't think about it, not now _._ They kissed without pausing to breathe air in. It wasn't important, it didn't matter as much as their mouths touching.

 

“ **Haz...** ”, Louis whispered minutes after, shivering from the urge he felt to be reunited with his love. Harry wasn't listening, his hands all over Louis' body, his lips on his neck. He was marking him, letting the world know that he was his. In this moment he was only his. The late phone calls were forgotten, the days waiting to talk to each other disappearing with each new kiss. They were hungry for each other.

 

They made love three times, in the living room, in the corridor against the wall as they couldn't wait to reach the bedroom where they made love for the last time, in bed. They stayed under the sheets for a while, caressing each other, feeling loved and satisfied for what felt like the first time in forever _._

 

“ **I can't believe you're here.** ”, Harry whispered, kissing Louis' head. The latter turned to look Harry in the eyes.

 

“ **Happy about your surprise?** ”, he asked. Harry smiled, joy glistening in his green orbs.

 

“ **Yes.** ”

 

A phone rang, popping their love bubble. Harry growled but Louis still answered. He whispered for a while then turned to Harry, all the happiness gone from his face. His mouth was facing downward and Harry knew what was coming.

 

“ **I have to go, babe.** ”, Louis revealed, already feeling sad. Harry pushed himself in a sitting position, leaving behind the warmth of the bed, the warmth him and Louis had created _._ He placed his feet on the floor facing the window, his elbows on his knees. He didn't want to look at his boyfriend picking up his clothes scattered all around his apartment. This was the end, then. It was nice while it lasted. Harry should have known that it wasn't going to last. It never did when it came to the two of them.

 

“ **Harry, love, please look at me...** ”, Louis begged once he was dressed again. Harry sighed. If he looked at the floor maybe he would be able to see the pieces of his heart breaking again. Maybe this time he'd learn from it.

 

“ **I can't.** ”, he lamented. He couldn't do it. Not again. Not while he felt this might be the last time. He couldn't explain his feeling, explain the heartbreak that was creeping on him. “ **I can't look at you leaving again, Lou. I don't know how to do this anymore...** ”, he confessed.

 

With a heavy sigh, undeniably conveying Louis' desperation and sadness, the older carefully stepped towards his boyfriend. He kneeled in front of Harry, hands holding on to the younger's _._

 

“ **Babe, it's not the end. I swear it's not. Believe me.** ”, he begged Harry. The younger one had closed his eyes. He felt the tears coming, the sobs crawling up his throat.

 

“ **How can you know?** ”, he croaked. Louis kissed his forehead tenderly.

 

“ **I know it in my heart. I love you.** ”, he whispered. Harry looked at him, finally.

 

“ **I love you too.** ”, he whimpered.

 

“ **It's all that matters, babe. Okay? We'll make it work.** ”, that was the last thing Harry remembered, Louis left after that, his manager waiting for him in a taxi. He was still on tour. This was three months ago.

 

Harry startled out of his memory, not sure what made him snap back in to this moment so suddenly _._ The water was now colder and he shivered. He drank what was left of wine in his glass, then stepped out of the bathtub. For a moment it was like he was back in New York. He could swear he was still feeling Louis' touch on his body, still smelling their scent, visioning their intertwined bodies. He felt the want inside his stomach. It was so near and yet so far.

 

The room was still dark as Harry had decided to not turn the lights on, he refused to face himself. He knew what he would look like, his face pale, dark circles around his eyes. Those eyes Louis had always admired. Louis had always made him feel like the most cherished person on this planet. Here he was now, feeling totally empty like nothing that had happened in the past mattered enough to fill up his heart.

 

He placed the wine glass on the sink, still completely naked. Something had clicked while he was bathing, even if he couldn't put it into words. It was there, however, clear in his mind. He swayed for a while, determining whether to give into his instincts or to, once again, listen to the loud call of his heart, the one part in that heart that had gotten so used to the ache in his chest. The one part that still wanted to hold on, because it was Louis, his Louis. But then again, Harry had never been one to act with reason, strong emotions having ended him up with his career and—and Louis. He took long, easy strides down the stairs and grabbed his phone in a haste. He dialed the number by heart. His call went to voice mail. Just what he hoped for. He didn't feel like having to explain himself to a talking Louis. His certainty was frail and fragile, Louis' voice would make it go away, he was sure of it. Not because Louis was mean, but only because Harry loved him too much. Sometimes love was a burden.

 

“ **Lou, it's me...** ”, he hesitated for a few seconds. He had to do this, had to say it. “ **I know what you're gonna tell me, what you always tell me. You keep saying that we can make it but what if we can't?** ”, he paused, letting the words sink into his heart. He knew it was as hurtful for Louis as it was for him, it still needed to be said.

 

“ **What if we were doomed from the start? Or lost it on our way? It doesn't matter. It's okay. Louis, do you hear me? It's okay if we don't make it. We tried and that's the most important thing. Really.** ”, Harry hesitated, his emotions stuck in his throat. He paced the living room back and forth, nervous. He didn't want to break Louis' heart or even his own, he simply had to go forward.

 

“ **You told the world that you loved me, in your songs, in your eyes, in your actions and I wish you hadn't. Because I believed you. Every word, every smile, every kiss. I believed you. And now I'm here, all alone, so lonely, and you're not here. I've been praying since that day in New York, praying for you to come back to me. To finally tell me that we can have it all. You never did, never do. I can't go on, babe. I'm sorry but I don't.** ”, he gulped, trying to keep his emotions under control. He was overwhelmed.

 

“ **I don't regret anything, I swear I don't. It's not what I'm trying to say. I love you, I really do but it destroys me. I can't fight alone for what's left of our relationship. You can tell me if you don't love me anymore. You'll always be the man of my life, my love, the truest love I've ever felt. I need to move forward. I love you so much, I'm not making any sense, I'm sorry.** ”, he confessed, one tear rolling down his face. Only one. That was the only tear he'll shed, it needed to stop.

 

“ **I wish you all the best. Take good care of yourself, Louis. I love....** ”, he sniffed. The tears weren't here, but the pain was. Except that, this time, Harry welcomed it wholeheartedly, without any hesitation. What if the pain wasn't something bad in the end? What if he needed to feel it, then put it behind him and carry on? He hoped Louis would understand that, would understand his choice.

 

“ **Bye.** ”, he hung up and sighed, feeling lighter _,_ in a sense. Now the words were out there, now he was allowed to be sad, to feel at loss.

 

What they had was amazing, still is, but maybe it was over, maybe it was just broken, Harry didn't know, the only thing he knew that he was losing himself hanging on those memories. He was afraid, scared of losing it all in the end. A small smile drew itself on his lips and Harry let it spread to the first real smile in weeks. He didn't know what he was smiling about, didn't feel the need to know. If he was meant to be with Louis, they would find a way back to each other. Maybe in months, or in years. Their love had overcome so much already, he had faith. Not only in himself, but somewhere deep in his heart – in that broken part, too – in Louis _._ They could make it, maybe. In time.

 

This was a new page, a blank one. He could make whatever he wanted of it, that was freeing.

 

He still loved Louis, would always love him.

 

_I've been praying, I never did before,_   
_understand I'm talking to the walls,_   
_and I've been praying ever since New York._   
  
_Oh, tell me something I don't already know._

 


	4. 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm late posting this chapter. The worst part is I'm on holiday but life and family happened :) 
> 
> Eve, thanks again for everything, you're the best beta I could have wished for <3
> 
> I hope you like this story even if some of you cried on the last chapter, sorry <3

_“Please, don't leave me.”_

 

Harry woke up, his heart beating like a hammer against his ribcage, so fast that he thought, for a moment, that he was having a heart attack. His hands were clasped on the sheets, he couldn't breathe normally. He had to calm down. He didn't dream about anything, he simply heard a voice. _His_ voice. Louis begging him to not let go of what they had.

 

He breathed in through his nose and breathed out of his mouth for a minute, like he did while running, to keep his heartbeat steady. Once he could finally breathe without thinking of it, he passed his hand in his hair, over his face. He brought his knees to his chest looking around, lost like a child. It was pitch black inside his bedroom, his first instinct being to reach out his hand to find Louis' body next to his.

 

He wasn't there.

 

He hadn't been there for a while, now. That was the reality of it all. It had been two weeks since Harry had left his message on Louis' voice mail. Two long, difficult weeks. But it had also been the easiest weeks he had had in years. This was the first fallback he'd had. He couldn't let it erase his decision, his new start. _He wouldn't._

 

He tried to go back to sleep, tossing and turning around for an hour, before falling back in Morphee's arms. Instead of Louis'. 

 

In the morning he felt groggy waking up. The sun was shining through the curtains, bringing some light in the bedroom. Harry looked around him. It looked different than at night, kinder in a way. Usual, even. This was his, this was his home and nothing could take that away from him. He sighed happily, feeling contented. He pushed the sheets away with his feet, stretching his legs and arms, his back cracking from the night's sleep.

 

He finally stood up, scratching the skin on his stomach, where his tattoo was spreading its wing. Harry felt like he was spreading his too, letting the wind take him away from his sadness. It's not like he didn't think about Louis anymore – how could he not?- it was just that missing Louis wasn't difficult anymore. Missing Louis finally felt like missing Louis and not losing a part of himself every day passing without touching the other's skin, or talking to him face to face.

 

He opened the curtains then the window, letting the fresh air of the morning fill the bedroom, taking away all the remains from last night, like a cleanse, starting over. It was just a relapse. It was bound to happen, at any given moment, and it will happen again. He couldn't sweep away almost ten years of relationship with the back of his hand and start anew immediately.

 

Harry smiled, the sun drawing shadows on his almost completely naked body. The warmth igniting a fire inside his heart, an appetite for life, a hunger for what could happen next.

 

His phone rang from his bedside table, yet Harry didn't turn around. This was his morning routine, the new balance he had found, he couldn't let his phone interrupt it, whoever was on the other side of the line. Even if it was Louis.

 

He doubted it would be him, seeing as he never called back after Harry left him a message. Was it better this way? Harry still wasn't sure. At least it was what it was. It might be because he broke up with Louis over the phone, he knew it was bad, knew he wouldn't do it this way if he had to do it again.

 

The birds chirping in the garden, the fresh wind in his hair, the beauty of the flowers, everything motivated Harry to go for a run. This time not to escape his feelings, but to get in touch with them. He was tired of running away from his heartbreak, now he was jogging in order to consume this heartbreak. He wanted to feel it, scent it, even. This was his as much as every other step of their past relationship. All the memories were floating in the air around him, always there when he didn't notice. They weren't smothering anymore, they were consoling, in a way. They were the proof that it all happened, it all existed, somewhere in time. The proof that the love they felt was real, still is real. They may not be together anymore, but the love they had for each other was still as true and as pure as it ever was.

 

It's filled with joy and contentment that Harry went downstairs, dressed to go for a run. His phone was still on his bedside table, ringing away. It would have to wait until he was ready.

 

He ran slowly, for over an hour, letting the air, the nature sink in deep inside his heart. It was like it could beat without hurting for the first time in months, like the hole he had before was finally gone and happiness could blossom again. He hated to think about it because it made him feel as if their love had brought only bad things, it did not. Harry had the best memories with Louis, the hardest laughs, the brightest moments. It was simply different now. He was the same, being totally different. It was like watching himself in a mirror, he could see himself, recognize himself, and, yet, he knew it was just a reflection. It wasn't who he was.

 

He went back to the garden walking, looking around, noticing some new things, some flowers that had now bloomed, a squirrel running away from him, the grass needing a cut. He was seeing the life. Feeling the life inside of his bones and soul. Harry had missed this, deeply. The way he could somehow connect with the most basic things, with all these beautiful things around him. With a smile he stepped inside the house and wandered to the kitchen.

 

He made himself a smoothie, listening to the music he had put on, a jazzy air floating around the space, Harry's feet following the rhythm, without even thinking about it. Music filling his ears and heart was like going back in time, or even moving forward. Harry could easily let the idea of writing a second album come to him. It was like he had kept himself from living in order to keep Louis as close as he could. What a mistake.

 

Louis would have stuck around no matter what.

 

At least that's what Harry was certain about. He ended up dancing around in the living room, his smoothie in his right hand, hair flowing around, carefree. He was dancing all his stress away, to be left enjoying the little things like the sun, the nature, the liberty to try something new.

 

When his smoothie glass was empty, he went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. His phone had stopped ringing, he finally looked at it, delighted to see that it was a friend of his who wanted to meet. He smiled, genuinely, and called her right back.

 

“ **Harry....** ”, she started, Harry smiled because he knew she wasn't upset even if she tried to sound like it. “ **I've called at least four times.** ”, she added. Harry laughed even if, in the back of his mind, he remarked that the last time Louis was upset about Harry not calling back he had called thirty-three times. It was something, something he didn't want to think about.

 

“ **Sorry, Babeth, I was out, running.** ”, he replied, still smiling. “ **Do you want to meet for lunch?** ”, he proposed, excited at the idea to go in the city and act like a normal human being.

 

“ **That's what I was calling about, psychic.** ”, she cackled. She was short and bubbly and, right now, she was the best person he could meet with, healing his broken heart.

 

“ **I can be there in half an hour, does that work for you?** ”, he smiled, again, not sure if his lips even gave up the expression in between.

 

“ **I'm on my way, already. I'll see you there.** ”, she hung up before he could even ask where they were meeting, but he knew. It was something he really liked about Babeth: the fact that she didn't have a fancy taste, didn't like the attention. They had a favorite restaurant together and they always went back there, every time.

 

He drove his black SUV there, singing along to the radio, feeling light for the first time in forever. Harry loved driving himself, one of those things about being able to control your life when everything else seemed to be decided for you. But today, for the first time in so long, he felt like he could go anywhere. His hands didn't clench on the steering wheel, his shoulders weren't tense. He sang out loud, loud and bright _._ Babeth was already seated in the back of the room when he arrived. The waitress smiled at him, he was a regular so she knew him, knew that he wanted a table in the back where no one would disturb and where they would be able to talk without a fear of being overheard by a customer or a journalist. He smiled back at her and followed her to their table. Babeth stood up, so small her head didn't even reach Harry's shoulders and he had to bend down to kiss her cheeks. He really liked that.

 

“ **Hey, shortie.** ”, he teased her, she swatted his arm but smiled nonetheless. “ **How are you?** ”, he asked as they sat down. Babeth looked at him, thoroughly, like she could read through him, reading through the lines and the signs. She had always been able to tell what was going on with him without even talking about it.

 

He started to feel a bit sheepish under her gaze but he didn't look away. She knew him, almost as well as his own mother, and he needed to talk to someone, to talk to a friend. A waiter came around, asking if they had already decided what they wanted to eat. They hadn't even opened the menu but they already knew. Harry ordered a big salad and Babeth pasta with salmon. They always ate the same thing here and Harry felt happy to finally go back to something normal, usual. They ordered a bottle of water and waited until the waiter was gone again to finally start talking.

 

“ **So, how are you?** ”, she questioned, a sly smile spreading on her round face. Harry laughed out loud.

 

“ **I hate you sometimes...** ”, he claimed _,_ but there was no heat behind his words. “ **How are you? Feeling good?** ”, he asked in return. He didn't want to talk about himself right away, he hated to be the one calling a friend only to talk about his life. He hadn't seen Babeth in months, he wanted to know what was going on in her life.

 

“ **Feeling great. I'm thinking about getting married.** ”, she said like she was talking about the weather and Harry almost spat out his water.

 

“ **Married?** ”, he said, surprised.

 

“ **Don't sound so surprised, Harry, Alan and I have been together for almost four years, it's the next step and I think we're both ready.** ”, she explained, simply. Harry smiled, a little smile, because that was a logic step, after a few years with the same person there were more steps, like marriage or children, or even buying a house together. Harry never had any of those steps, that was why he sounded so surprised.

 

“ **Congratulations.** ”, he beamed, stroking Babeth's hand over the table. “ **I'm so happy for both of you.** ” Babeth laughed.

 

“ **It's not decided yet, well, I mean he didn't propose to me yet, but we've talked about it, and I think it's time. If he doesn't propose, I'll do it.** ”, and it was that simple, really.

 

“ **Will I be invited to the wedding?** ”, he pronounced slowly, a hint of mischief in his green eyes. Babeth furrowed her brows at him, like scolding a child or a dog.

 

“ **Of course not! Why would I want you there?** ”, she blurted, as though she was surprised _,_ even shocked. Harry laughed again. Oh, how good it felt to simply laugh with a friend. “ **Of course you are, idiot.** ”, there was so much love in the name that he didn't mind. They ate their lunch talking about wedding details, about everything really. It was just when they were drinking their teas that she finally asked.

 

“ **What about you and...** ”, she didn't dare to say his name in case someone was listening to them and Harry loved her more in that moment.

 

“ **It's over, I guess.** ”, he said, turning his spoon in his tea, not looking at his friend.

 

“ **You guess?** ”, she asked, perplexed.

 

The truth was that he was sure about it, totally, but saying it out loud to someone else than his mother would make it official, more real in a way. That what the last string of hope he had to let go of.

 

“ **It's over.** ”, he repeated, sounding more sure this time. He looked at her in the eyes, facing her reaction. A glimpse of sadness shone through her eyes then she started talking.

 

“ **I'm sorry...** ”, she apologized even if she had nothing to do with the decision he made.

 

“ **Thanks.** ”

 

They didn't add anything more about it, maybe because there was nothing else to say, or maybe simply because Harry didn't want to explain it. Babeth knew him enough to understand. They paid the bill – Harry wanted to pay for his friend which she refused, as always. And then she was gone. Harry was standing in the street in front of the restaurant. He walked for a while, not even hiding under a hood or behind sunglasses. He never felt like he had something to hide when he was dating Louis, absolutely not a thing, but he felt different. He didn't feel like he had to hide from the world anymore. Because he had nothing to lose now.

 

He crossed paths with a few fans, he took photographs and signed some autographs. Harry felt at peace with himself for the first time in months. He was smiling when he went back to his car. He stopped to buy some things he would need and drove back home, still singing along to the radio.

 

In the house, he took the bags of things he bought and went straight upstairs in the empty bedroom he always planned on using as an office, or a studio. There was an easel already, he had bought the day he moved in, in order to remember what he had always wanted to try out: painting. He sighed with contentment. He put everything in place, got a chair from the dining room, a small table from the guest bedroom and put some music on.

 

He felt good, great even.

 

For a few hours he sat there, painting. The smell of the paint made him feel at home, like he was always meant to start painting as a hobby. He wasn't good, he knew that much, but he enjoyed it. The first piece was a small one, covered in light colors like blues, and yellows, some touches of pink here and there. It wasn't something specific, he swept his brush on the canvas letting his emotions take control of things. He couldn't act like he knew what he was doing, because he didn't.

 

Harry thought about writing new songs, thought about starting his second album. The thing was that he knew how to write songs, knew how to put things into words. He had done it for years, it wasn't what he needed now. He needed another form of expression. A form that was reserved for his eyes only.A way to let out his demons. Painting was the first idea he got.

 

It was getting dark when Harry finally put his brush down. His arm was aching from the hours of painting, but it was a pleasant burn. Something to remind him of the work he'd put into his first piece, amateurish as it turned out. Harry stretched, slowly, like a cat waking up from a nap. He was startled by the door bell ringing three times in a row. He looked around him as if it would tell him who was here. His phone was somewhere in the house – or even in the car for all he knew – so maybe it was Jo. Harry hadn't heard from her today _._ He went downstairs.

 

He was covered in paint, he even had some in his hair but he didn't care. He opened the door and then there he was _-_ Louis was there, standing in front of him, hunched. He looked so small, so lost. Harry never found him small before. It was Louis. Louis was finally here, but everything was different now.

 

Harry was, at least.

 

They stared at each other without talking, only looking at one another in silence. There was no tension, or anger in their stares. They were two friends facing each other. They had history but it was over, and maybe they could be friends. Harry hoped so _._

 

Harry's heart wasn't pounding in his chest, even if it beat a bit faster than before. He wasn't out of breath, was in control of his emotions. That much had changed in two weeks. It made him wonder what a month or six would do – and he wasn't scared _._

 

Louis was here, Harry was too, and no one said anything.

 

_We're not who we used to be_ __  
_We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me_ __  
_We're not who we used to be_ __  
_We don't see what we used to see_ __  
_We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty_ _  
_ _Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat_

 


	5. 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write because I really wanted it to be perfect. I hope you'll enjoy it <3

“ **Would you like to come in?** ”, Harry finally asked. Louis looked surprised, startled even with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead. Harry hadn't noticed it before, but Louis was twisting his hands, like he always had done before every show. It felt like a lifetime ago, but Harry still could read him like he always had.

 

“ **Please** ”, Louis whispered as an answer, stepping hesitantly forward. Harry stepped aside, showing the hall with his left hand, closing the door behind Louis with the other. It felt odd to finally see Louis here, not imagining him that is.

 

Harry would have proposed to take his coat if Louis were wearing one, but the only thing he had on was a sweatshirt, too big on him. So Harry didn't say anything, leading the way to the kitchen. He didn't think about showing Louis around, clear in his head that he would know the house already. But he didn't. He never came here before. It was the first time. What a shame it had to be under those circumstances.

 

“ **I brought dinner.** ”, Louis offered, stretching out the hand holding onto the bag Harry hadn't noticed before. The latter turned around to look at Louis. Harry still knew him so well and he couldn't help but note that Louis' voice was high-pitched, unsure, near wavering.

 

“ **That's kind of you.** ”, Harry responded, smiling, hopefully reassuring. Whatever it was that the older needed to be reassured of _._ He felt fuzzy having Louis in his house. In the house that should have been theirs. Louis was shifting balance between his feet, one time on the right one and then on the other. It was like he was swaying from side to side. He kept his gaze on the floor as Harry tried to reach his eyes _._ “ **I'll put it on plates. Where do you want to eat? Dining room, living room or in the kitchen?** ”, Harry asked, forgetting that Louis still didn't know the house.

 

Louis looked up, seeming even more lost than he was before. He looked around, discovering the room, painted in gray and lilac.

 

“ **Here's good.** ”, he muttered. Harry couldn't remember having seen Louis acting this way since... well, thinking of it, he'd never seen Louis so unsure, so subdued. He watched him play with the hem of his sweatshirt, nervously scrub the floor with his toes like he was scratching some stain away. Harry was sure there were no stains, but didn't say a thing.

 

It felt strange to be here together and having the feeling that they were almost strangers. Harry took plates out of the cupboards, placing them on the worktop, getting glasses and cutlery as well. What he would have given to have had this dinner weeks ago, when everything was still possible...

 

“ **Have a seat, Lou.** ”, he urged when he turned back and noticed that Louis was still standing in the same spot, looking like a deer in the headlights. It broke Harry's heart to see him so lost, so unsure. Louis tried to smile but it was so weak that it took someone like Harry to know it was only an attempt at a smile at best. Anybody else wouldn't have noticed the small motion of his lips. “ **You're welcome here, feel at home.** ”, Harry tried to make him feel at ease, in his own way. With his words.

 

Louis hesitated, stepping forward and then back to his spot. He did the same two more times before walking to the barstool. There was now only the worktop between them, they were closer than they had been in months. Harry had put the food on the plates and had put them in the microwave waiting for it to ring. He put his hands on the surface before him, his gaze on Louis. He was drinking Louis in with his eyes, like he had been in the desert for days and Louis was the only near water in miles. He missed him so much, maybe even more since he broke up with him.

 

No, he hadn't missed more, he had missed him differently. He missed his best friend, the only person who understood him completely and never judged him. Louis had always been the only human being to know about some of his secrets even his mom and sister didn't know about.

 

Louis was now detailing everything in the room, every object, every choice Harry made about the decoration, his eyes going from a side to the other, not letting anything go to waste. He noticed the small egg holders he had bought when Harry and him were living together. The vase he had bought for Harry on Valentine's day years ago. Harry loved being offered flowers but they hadn't owned any vase at the time. Louis turned his head on the right, discovering a painting which looked familiar. He didn't try to remember where he had already seen it, he turned back to Harry. He hadn't been here before but everything seemed and looked familiar to him. It was a bit scary. So scary Louis bit his lips nervously.

 

“ **Relax** ”, Harry whispered, as much to Louis as to himself.

 

It felt like they were teenagers and it was their first time all alone in the house. Harry smiled at Louis, hoping it would ease things up. Louis closed his eyes for a few seconds, inhaling slowly through his nose and breathing out of his mouth as Harry had taught him when they were still on tour together.

 

“ **I'm kind of nervous.** ”, Louis admitted sheepishly, a hint of a smile finally blooming on his thin lips. Harry felt his heart grow fonder. He had always loved the way Louis' face changed when he smiled, his cheekbones more prominent, his eyes glistening. Harry smiled at the confession, as if he hadn't noticed already.

 

The microwave dinged, made them come back to reality from whatever that small moment was. Harry didn't let himself think about it too much, over-thinking having ruined a thing or two for him in the past _._ He turned around and he could hear Louis sigh, relieved. He noted to himself that Louis wasn't looking at him straight in the eyes, that he was avoiding it as much as he could, as much as it was politely possible.

 

“ **You don't have to be nervous.** ”, Harry tried to comfort him, to console him maybe. He took the plates out of the microwave and placed one in front of Louis and the other in front of himself. He could have sat next to Louis, but the way the latter took his hand away when Harry handed the plate over, he found it a better idea to stay on his side of the worktop. If Louis wasn't comfortable with them being sat next to each other, he had to respect it.

 

“ **Let's eat.** ”, Harry said, trying to break the wall that was being built between them. Louis took his fork with hesitation, looking at his food as if he wasn't the one who bought it earlier. Harry didn't know what to do, or say. They ate in an uncomfortable silence. Louis was blinking too much to pass as confident. Harry could recite by heart every eyebrow raise, every twitch of his mouth, every pinching of his lips, every color of his cheeks. He knew him so well that he was able to know how Louis was feeling even if the latter wasn't looking at him at all.

 

Louis was blinking too much and chewing too slowly, something was eating at him and he didn't know how to bring the subject on the table. Harry finished eating first, still standing – there was no stool on his side of the worktop, he didn't bother taking one. He took his plate to the sink when Louis finally spoke, loud and clear.

 

“ **Are we gonna address the elephant in the room?** ”, Louis questioned. His fork was put back near his plate, his meal not even finished. His eyes were hazy, looking everywhere, not focusing on anything in particular, certainly not on Harry who crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against the sink, on the other side of the kitchen. There was maybe four or five meters between them. Harry could still clearly see Louis' face from where he stood. He could see the tumult inside Louis.

 

“ **We can.** ”, he answered, his voice as low and syrupy as ever. Louis huffed, also crossing his arms. Except that he did it to protect himself, Harry could see it from the way he was clenching his fists.

 

There was a silence that was only broken by Louis standing up, dragging the stool on the floor. He stayed there, facing Harry, looking at his feet.

 

“ **I got your voice mail.** ”, Louis finally confessed, his voice trembling, unsure. He cleared his throat. Harry nodded even if Louis couldn't see it. He had to speak until Louis was ready to look at him. It wasn't the easy path they were taking but they both deserved a clean slate and that meant talking about things like the adults they were.

 

“ **I figured. Since you haven't been in touch ever since.** ”, Harry stated, without any heat to his words. He was calm, collected, his heart and mind open. He would listen to anything Louis came here to say. Even if it was hurtful – which he doubted.

 

“ **I couldn't...** ”, he stopped, his shoulders low, his head hung down, he looked defeated in a way Harry had never seen before.

 

“ **It's okay.** ”, Harry tried to comfort again. Before, he would have closed the empty space between them and would have taken Louis in his arms, holding him close and whispering in his ears that everything would be alright. He couldn't anymore and he didn't know how to handle Louis' demeanor without any physical contact. It was excruciating to watch him wither away under his gaze.

 

“ **No.** ”, Louis whispered, his hand going through his hair twice before he banged his fist on the worktop. At least that was what he tried to do, because Harry had to be watching to ever know his hand even made contact with the surface _._ Louis finally looked up and his gaze was furious. “ **No, it is not okay, Harry.** ”, he growled. Anger had taken the place of defeat, Harry preferred it. He could do with a furious Louis, but he couldn't handle a broken one.

 

“ **Louis...** ”, Harry tried to intervene only to be met by Louis' eyes, anchored to his. They were finally looking at each other and, this time, Harry's heart beat faster. Much faster. He thought that he had cleansed his love for Louis out of his system in two weeks. How wrong he had been ! How could he believe that he would someday forget about it?? It will always be there, around the corner, at any given moment. Louis' lips were trembling, this time out of anger not sadness. His fists were clasped on his sweatshirt. He was tense, standing straight. 

 

“ **No, let me finish, please.** ”, Louis interjected. Even though he looked pissed off, his voice was still soft in a way, like he couldn't be utterly mad at Harry.

 

Harry nodded, this time aware Louis could see it.

 

“ **I couldn't call you back or even come here. It was like you took all the air from my lungs, all the blood from my veins. I think I didn't move for hours, I just couldn't. It was like I had died. In a way, I think I did. Harry, I think I lost myself...** ”, Louis confessed, all anger forgotten. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears, his voice creaking. His hands were trembling so much he had to hang on to his sweatshirt to try and control it. He looked so broken Harry felt his heart breaking, too.

 

Harry wanted to go to him, hold Louis against him, shelter him. He couldn't. Louis had more things to say and Harry owed it to him to listen until the end.

 

“ **I've lost myself, I think. And it hurts so much, Haz, I swear I've never hurt this bad before. Ever.** ”, Louis blubbered, tears rolling down his face that he didn't even try to wipe away. His eyes were crinkling at the edge, his lips pinched to keep the sobs quiet. Harry understood it all only by watching him. Louis cleared his throat, trying to make his voice as stable as possible.

 

“ **There's a part of me that died, that I'll never recover. I always thought that I was scared but I had no idea what fear was really like. Fear is waking up every night with your words resonating in my head, your voice haunting me and knowing I didn't try to stop it. Fear is not being able to look myself in the mirror. Fear is the only thing I have left. The only thing that still ties me to you. I can't let go of that, Haz, I can't.** ”, this time the sobs came out, loud and strangled. Louis was fully bawling by now, his shoulders shaking under the cries, his hands clasped on the worktop to keep himself from falling or kneeling down. He hung his head down low in an attempt to hide his tears.

 

He couldn't even if he tried. Harry was on the verge of tears himself. His legs were weakening beneath him, he couldn't move. He couldn't walk to Louis, he only could stand there and listen.

 

Louis wiped the tears away with his fists, trying to put on a brave face. His courage had always been something Harry had admired, and he still did in this moment.

 

“ **You were wrong when you said that it didn't matter if we don't make it. It does matter. At least, it does to me. I can't face the fact that we did all that for nothing.** ”, he breathed deeply after his words, trying to calm his heart beating like crazy in his chest, so hard that it was almost painful. Then again, maybe the pain was really there.

 

“ **Eight years, Harry. It's been almost eight years. The biggest part of my life has been spent by your side. I don't know how to do it another way. I think I can't live without you...** ”, his gaze traveled from Harry's face to his chest, his legs, the floor and then back to his face. “ **I always thought we would grow old together.** ”, he said, childishly, with the faith of a kid written all over his face.

 

“ **Louis...** ”, Harry whispered. Not to interrupt, because he felt the need to finally say something, to make sure his tongue was still working as it was heavier than before.

 

“ **I didn't come to make you change your mind. It's your decision, I'll accept it. I just needed to see you, one last time.** ”, Louis hesitated. He took a few steps to stand on the other side of the worktop so that there was only empty space between them. It made it harder for Harry not to go to him, hold him close.

 

“ **It feels like we've given up on ourselves. I guess we kind of did. At least, I know I did. It just seemed so much to handle.** ”, Louis' voice was becoming more sure with each word. Like the closeness with Harry made him stronger. Harry had now his arms hanging by his side, his eyes were glued to Louis'. He wasn't sure he was breathing anymore.

 

“ **It was so hard, so terrifying. We had so much to lose. It happened, and now I have to live without it. It is what it is, I guess.** ”, all Louis' certainty flew away, all the anger had vanished, the fear crumbled away, he was leaning against the worktop, his feet apart, his hands behind his back. The only thing moving were his eyes, following every curve of Harry's face, every move he could make.

 

“ **Just say it, Louis. It's not a thing, say it. You can say it, at least to me.** ”, Harry cautioned, trying to look more sure than he was feeling deep down inside.

 

“ **Say what?** ”, Louis asked. It was like a fight, with their words, only they didn't know what they were fighting for.

 

“ **That you fell in love with me. You can admit it, now.** ”, Harry clarified, surprise being written on Louis' traits as he heard it. “ **Just for once, admit it.** ”, he begged. Louis stood straighter, it was infinitesimal, but Harry saw it.

 

“ **I've never hid it, Harry.** ”

 

“ **It felt like you were ashamed of it, I think it's what made it so hard for me to handle. I come to Los Angeles and the only thing you have to tell me is that we can't see each other. Not even for a night. I was left feeling like a mistress when I was your lover. Damn it, Louis, we talked about getting married one day. Babeth is getting married, by the way. Because that's what normal people do when they're in a relationship for long enough. I think I would even have married you when I was sixteen. That's how sure I was about us. But, with time, the fact that you didn't want us to meet made me feel ashamed, guilty of something I didn't do. I love you, Louis, I've always been in love with you but I can't be the only one giving. I can't do that anymore.** ”, Harry was clear, his voice almost not breaking.

 

Louis' body tensed, his jaw so tight it looked painful. Harry supposed his hands were white from holding onto the worktop.

 

“ **I fell in love with you.** ”, Louis said it so low that Harry wasn't sure if he had imagined it again.

 

“ **Sorry?** ”, he asked. Louis looked at him, a fire renewed in his pupils.

 

“ **I fell in love with you.** ”, he repeated, defiance in his eyes, like he was daring Harry to doubt his words. Harry smiled, but it looked sad.

 

“ **I know. You seem to be the only one who forgot it.** ”, Harry mumbled, his chest burning from the tears he tried to contain. He had sworn that he was over the crying. What they had was amazing – he doubted he would ever love like this again – but it was over. They had to accept it.

 

Louis walked to Harry, like a lion, his demeanor sure, almost intimidating. He stood in front of Harry, took his face in his hands, looked deep in his eyes.

 

“ **Haz...** ”, he started, his voice was warm, soft, assured. “ **Haz, you can tell me you can't do it anymore, but never, ever, doubt my love for you. You're the best person I have ever met. You made me a better person. You gave me so much pride, faith and courage. All I did, all I achieved was thanks to you. I may have not loved you enough, but I have loved you with all I had. Maybe fear got in the way. Maybe I failed, but I've loved you with every piece of me. Swear to me you won't doubt it. Please?** ”, now he was begging and who was Harry to deny him? He had always known that Louis had loved him. Deep inside his heart.

 

“ **I swear.** ”, Harry whispered.

 

They were so close that he could smell Louis' perfume, see the dark circles under his beautiful eyes. He could almost taste his skin, his lips. He could hear Louis' heart breaking with each word he uttered. He could sense Louis' seams undoing themselves, letting him empty and lost. He could see Louis' strength disappearing from his eyes. Louis was breaking apart in front of him even though he tried to put on a brave face.

 

Louis kissed his lips, tenderly but shortly. It was a goodbye kiss. Everything about it screamed goodbye.

 

“ **I'm sorry, Harry. I swear to you I regret everything I did that lead us here. But you're free to go now, I'll open the cage and you'll be able to spread your wings. Fly away as far as you wish but, be sure in your heart, that I'll always be here, waiting for you to come back to me. I'll be praying for that.** ”, Louis confessed, tears strolling down his face again. He said it, caressed Harry's cheek one last time and walked away.

 

The last thing Harry saw was his back, shuddering with his sobs. Harry wished he could run after him, stop him. He couldn't. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He could only stand there and try to cope.

 

Louis was gone. For good. And Harry didn't know how to handle it.

 

_Just stop your crying_  
Have the time of your life  
Breaking through the atmosphere  
And things are pretty good from here  
Remember everything will be alright  
We can meet again somewhere 

 


	6. 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writing is going slower than I would want it to, but life is busy lately :) 
> 
> Here's the new chapter for this week. If you want me to post more often, let me know :) <3

Jo had called late the day before, explaining the schedule for this day. It had to be a press day, he couldn't stay away from the media for too long considering he just released his album months ago. He had tried to delay it, it was without knowing how Jo was : if she decided it was happening the next day then it was happening the next day.

So Harry had spent the day between hotel rooms, answering the same questions over and over again, boring him almost to death. He knew it was part of his work, selling his music to those people who didn't really care about his work. They all asked about his love life, dying to know if he was single or fucking around. Harry had to stop himself from throwing up in his mouth when he heard it. In what world do you discuss your personal life with strangers? It was like going to the coffee shop and asking the barista how she liked to fuck.. Or who she was fucking with...

 

Harry shook his head, defeated, thinking about it again as he was exiting the last hotel room. It was done, his day was finished. He sighed, happy to be going back home. Jo was beside him, checking her phone, humming to things she was probably reading. Harry liked this feeling, this empty feeling, that he always had after a press day. He had nothing more to give, he was exhausted but he was free for a little while, and that was the best part of it.

 

“ **Do you need me to drive you home?** ”, Harry asked Jo. She was staying at a hotel on the other side of town, he could still drive her there if it meant sparing her a long taxi ride. She looked up and smiled at him tenderly.

 

“ **It's okay, love. I'll take a taxi. You're sweet.** ”, she declined, still smiling. She kissed his forehead and walked away, leaving him alone in the corridor. Harry looked around, noticing the decoration. This hotel wasn't awful in itself, the colorful walls were just not his taste. He walked down the stairs to the parking lot where his car was parked.

 

Someone was standing next to his black SUV, Harry's heart started to beat faster. The first thing he should be feeling was fear but it was hope. A tiny bit of hope that Louis was the one waiting for him. He was still a little surprised by how often his heart tricked his mind into hoping Louis would be there, everywhere he went _._ But it wasn't. It was Babeth who was standing there, her arms crossed on her chest and her eyes on him.

 

Harry opened his arms, smiling warmly at her. She walked to him, hugged him shortly and stepped back. She looked troubled.

 

“ **Are you okay? Is everything okay?** ”, he asked, his brows furrowed. She shrugged. Harry took his keys and opened the doors with a press of a button, moving toward the car, looking at Babeth. She understood, sitting next to him in the car.

 

She looked like she needed to talk and Harry knew by now that it was surer to have this kind of talk in a private space, because you never knew who was within hearing range and ready to blabber everything they'd hear to the press. Harry had learned this a long time ago.

 

They sat in silence for two minutes, Babeth opening and closing her mouth without letting any words fall from her lips. Her brows furrowed, her lips pursed, her arms still crossed on her chest. She really seemed upset, bothered. Harry touched her elbow, startling her back to reality.

 

“ **What is it?** ”, he asked again, worried by the way she was acting. She turned, leaning against the door, facing her friend.

 

“ **I'm sorry, I know I always pass as the friend who is laid back, uncomplicated but...** ”, she paused, playing with the material of her jeans, nervous. Harry couldn't understand what was going on, he needed her to say what she was withholding. But he didn't push her _._

 

She sighed deeply, closed her eyes and opened them back again.

 

“ **I'm sorry but I have to ask. I've spend the last week thinking about it and regretting leaving without talking about it with you. What happened, Harry? What happened with Louis? I need to know...** ”, she said, her voice nearly breaking, despair painting itself in her eyes. She twisted her hands, trying to hold onto something real. Harry was simply looking at her, lost at words. He didn't understand the feeling, didn't quite get the urge she was feeling. The need to know.

 

“ **Babeth...** ”, he whispered, giving her a chance to explain.

 

“ **I've been thinking about it since we parted, you always seemed so in love, so kind to each other... Harry, I need to know why it didn't work for the both of you because if you can't make it then I have no shot at it. I'm doomed. As simple as that.** ”, she explained, sincerely. Harry closed his eyes, breathing in slowly.

 

What was it today with the rest of the world intruding into his love life? Except that, with Babeth, it was coming from the heart.

 

“ **I don't really know. I guess life got in the way. Fear, also. We spent months without seeing each other. And I died from missing him every single second away from him. It broke me. Life and our work got in the way and we didn't find the way back to ourselves.** ”, he said, his voice calm, low and certain. It was funny how calm he could sound when his heart was beating like crazy against his ribcage, when his hands were clammy and his throat so tight it almost hurt to talk.

 

“ **I can't wrap my head around the fact that you guys aren't a couple anymore. It sounds so surreal. It breaks my heart too. You looked so happy with him, thinking about him.** ”, she babbled, her lips now trembling. Harry wanted to hold her, console her but he didn't have anything to say to calm her sadness. He wasn't an item with Louis anymore, there was nothing else he could say about it. It was done.

 

“ **It happens, Babeth.** ”, he said, his hands laid flat on his thighs, trying to calm his nerves. She looked at him sad and trusting at the same time like she knew he was telling something horrible but was holding onto some solution also. The heartbreaking truth was he wasn't.

 

“ **Harry...** ”, she whispered and Harry could hear her heart breaking. “ **What if love is not enough, in the end?** ”, and no one said anything else. There was nothing to say because Harry didn't have the answers and Babeth had just lost her faith in love. It was a loss Harry couldn't heal or fix.

 

“ **It is, Babeth, I believe it is enough.** ” he countered, perplexed. This conversation was so out of place he didn't know what to add. He was exhausted by his day and by the emotions he was feeling now. Those feelings he thought had disappeared were now back, hitting him in the face.

 

“ **But... what if it isn't?** ”, she whispered. Harry opened his arms, asking in silence if she needed a hug. She rushed forward, hiding her face into his neck. She needed him right now. He held her for at least fifteen minutes in silence. They didn't have anything to say to each other. She would need time to find her own answers and he would need time to accept that he would never be able to erase those feelings he felt again thinking about his relationship with Louis.

 

Harry drove her home with the radio singing in the background. She kissed his cheek, twice, before going out of the car. Harry watched her walk to her house, wondering if she was feeling better, if she had any idea how to handle her love for her fiancé, if she had faith in their relationship. He left, puzzled by the impact he had on her. Harry had spent his whole life not comprehending the fact that he could impact someone else's life with his words, his actions, his whole being.

 

He parked in front of his house, his heart heavy in his chest, every word said today turning in his day to the point he felt dizzy, almost nauseous. He breathed deeply, trying to keep everything under control. He walked to his house listening to the sounds of the night and the life still existing beside him. Harry opened the door and welcomed the darkness with his whole heart. It was soothing in a way to be left alone with himself. Nobody watching, nobody feeling like they had a right to his life. He was alone and enjoyed it, at last.

 

He sat on the windowsill in his bedroom, listening to the vocal notes on his phone, a notepad lying next to him waiting on the new lyrics he would soon write when his phone rang. Instinctively he answered and put the phone to his ear without looking at the name splayed on the screen. He heard nothing but silence, only a small breathing. He closed his eyes. Harry knew who it was. It was Louis calling. He could tell from his breath. Harry could recognize Louis' breathing anywhere in the world. He had spent so many nights lying awake, listening to the man he loved. He still knew it by heart. It was tattooed on him for eternity. He was sure of it.

 

“ **Louis.** ”, he couldn't help but call out his name. It rolled off his tongue so naturally it was almost scary. He only heard the breaths on the other end of the line quicken. He was sure that if he listened more closely he could hear Louis' heartbeat.

 

“ **Yes.** ”, Louis murmured.

 

They stayed silent for a while, only bathing in the other's presence, not sure how to break the silence, what to say first after a week of no interaction, a week of solitude since they finally said goodbye. Louis was the one with enough courage to finally break the ice.

 

“ **I don't know how to make it stop.** ”, he confessed, strangled by the emotion that was crawling up his throat. Harry opened his mouth but no words came out. It was like his tongue wasn't working anymore. He hummed to let Louis know he heard him. Louis chuckled, only Harry could hear the fear intertwined with it.

 

“ **I tried but I don't know how to make it stop.** ”, Louis said again, this time more insistent, more pressing. Urgent in a way Harry understood.

 

“ **What?** ”, Harry coaxed, he leaned against the window pane, needing to feel something colder to keep him grounded.

 

“ **This missing you thing.** ”, Louis answered, nervously. Harry gasped silently, surprised, because he had hoped to hear those words for months and they were here now. Was it enough? Was there still time for that? He started playing with the rings on his fingers to escape every thought coming at him at once.

 

“ **I don't think it ever stops.** ”, Harry admitted. They were both whispering as if they were in the same bed, talking after lovemaking and it was an intimacy they hadn't had for months. Harry felt fuzzy, hot and uncomfortable all at once. Louis chuckled again, still no joy behind the sound.

 

“ **You're everywhere I go.** ”, Louis affirmed, his words echoing in Harry's heart. He had dreamed of this conversation, he had imagined so many times before that he felt the need to pinch his thigh to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep and was now dreaming of it all. It was the only plausible explanation. Louis couldn't be on the line, telling all this, now, after all the months of hurt and pain.

 

“ **I know.** ”, Harry answered, the words barely escaping his throat. What he would give to have had this conversation when he was still in New York and his state of mind had been different than it was now. He couldn't take back what he had said, had felt, had decided. It was over, it had to be over.

 

“ **What can I do?** ”, Louis murmured and Harry's heartbeat went crazy. Was Louis asking him what he could do for them to be together again? Because if he really was, Harry had no idea what he should answer. In this moment he wasn't really positive about them not being together anymore. What was that that made two people a couple? Trust, love, connection, exchange, want, need. Everything was still there, within reach. Harry sighed because he was more lost than he would care to admit. “ **What can I do to not want you every second of every hour?** ”, Louis added and maybe it made it better, or harder. Harry wasn't sure anymore.

 

“ **If it's about wanting me, then it will go away, Lou.** ”, Harry advised. He felt so good hearing Louis whispering in his ear that he imagined being in a nest, surrounded by twigs, leaves, herbs and maybe some clouds. It felt so familiar, usual, that his heart was filled to the brim by joy and contentment.

 

Louis snorted. Harry imagined him sitting on the worktop in his kitchen, a cup of tea beside his thigh. He had never seen Louis' house so he was only imagining it with some of their memories scattered around in the house. Maybe the picture they took at Anne's wedding hanging in the corridor, or the cushions Harry had bought for their first apartment placed on the couch. Every thought felt natural. It almost scared him how easily he could picture Louis everywhere in the world with a tie back to him every time. Was there ever a time where Harry had been only Harry and not ' Harry and Louis'? And vice versa?

 

Will there ever be a time when they would be only themselves without the other being there, somewhere, like added value?

 

Harry wasn't sure, he couldn't be sure anymore when Louis was breathing on the other side of the line and Harry was picturing himself back at their old apartment in England, all those nights he had watched Louis sleep, caressing his cheeks and shoulders slightly, making sure not to wake him up. How many times had he fallen asleep to the sound of Louis' breathing? He couldn't count anymore. Hundreds. Maybe even thousands. They had shared so many things, almost everything, and it was hurting so much to have to go on without it.

 

“ **It's not about lust, Haz.** ”, Louis finally countered, so long that Harry had almost forgotten what they were talking about.

 

“ **No?** ”

 

There was a silence on the line as if Louis would be shaking his head until he remembered they were on the phone and Harry couldn't see him.

 

“ **No.** ”, Louis confided. Harry hummed, to prove he was still listening, still hanging onto every word Louis would say. “ **It would be easier.** ”, he reasoned. Harry's eyebrows furrowed, he bit his bottom lip.

 

“ **How so?** ”, he asked.

 

He heard Louis sipping on his cup of tea, he heard him gulp and put down the cup. Everything felt more intimate than they had been in months. Harry was still sitting in the dark, no lights turned on, only the moonlight falling on him through the window.

 

“ **Wanting someone can be urgent, but it fades away, Haz, love doesn't. I miss you. Not only your body even if I'll admit I do. It's not about missing someone to fuck. It's about missing the best part of me. And I'm not talking about missing you for important stuff – I absolutely do – but the worst part is when I miss you for things I couldn't miss anybody else for. This morning I was eating cereal and I felt the need to call you to let you know that I bought the kind with no added sugar like you always told me. I picked up my phone, dialed your number and... Nothing. It was the moment it hit me: I miss you, baby.** ”, Louis explained, his voice low, deep, sensual and so honest Harry felt goosebumps all over his body, a shiver coming down his back.

 

Harry had hoped for this for months without ever hearing the words from Louis' mouth. It would have changed everything a few weeks ago, now it was too late. Or was it?

 

“ **It doesn't work this way, Lou.** ”, he commented once he was sure the emotion wouldn't strangle his words.

 

“ **I know.** ”, Louis said, defeated. Harry was amazed at how much he could understand Louis with only the sound of his voice. The inflexions of his words, how long or short his breaths were. It was instinctive.

 

“ **I'm not changing my mind because you can finally admit that you miss me.** ”, Harry added, still whispering hoping that it would still convey his conviction. He couldn't speak louder, couldn't break the bubble they were in. It felt like home.

 

“ **I know...** ”, Louis breathed, pain interlaced with the words. Harry could feel it deep inside him. He was amazed at how much they were still connected. They had been one for so many years it was hard to dissociate himself from the love of his life. Louis will always be it.

 

“ **It's too late, Lou.** ”, Harry declared, his voice more sure than his heart.

 

“ **I'm aware.** ”, Louis murmured, broken but collected. “ **I guess I let the world make me lose sight of it all. And now I'm seeing clearly.** ”, he explained, his words painful to say and to hear too. It had to be said. Now. “ **I love you, I will always be utterly and tremendously in love with you, Haz.** ”, he hushed again and Harry's heart broke a little bit more. He should have hung up ten minutes ago, he really should have. He hadn't. He couldn't. Maybe because he needed to hear it, or because he just wasn't ready to let go of Louis just yet. He couldn't let go of this string of hope that maybe, _maybe,_ they'll find a way back to each other someday.

 

“ **I know.** ”, it was his turn to say it. The truth that he really did know it. Deep down inside he knew Louis loved him, had always loved him and will always do. But it wasn't enough. Not for now, at least.

 

“ **Good.** ”, Louis cautioned. His tone was more controlled now, as if saying it all took away the urge, the edge of it all. He sounded calm now, almost peaceful. Harry closed his eyes, taking in Louis' breathing one last time.

 

“ **I'll hang up now, Haz.** ”, Louis whispered and a part of Harry wanted to say no, to ask him to talk until he fell asleep, to give him this one last time falling asleep to his breathing but he didn't. He nodded, tears making their way to his eyes. He wasn't gonna cry. He looked at the ceiling to make them go away.

 

“ **Yeah** ”, was the only thing Harry managed to pronounce without his voice breaking. Saying goodbye now was even worse than when he had broken up with Louis. This time it felt more real, more final. Sadder.

 

“ **Good night, my love. Take care of yourself, please. I'll see you, maybe, someday. I love you.** ”, Louis whispered and he hung up before Harry had the chance to say something in return and he was glad because he didn't know what to say. Didn't know if he could say anything. His heart was beating so fast, faster than it ever did. As fast as the night they made love for the first time. Harry stood up, his legs feeling weak underneath him but he still managed to walk to his bedroom. He got under the sheets without taking his clothes off, he didn't have the strength. He fell asleep with his phone clasped in his hand and Louis' words warming up his soul.

 

_Should be laughing, but there’s something wrong_   
_And it hits me when the lights go on_   
_Shit, maybe I miss you_

 


	7. 6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's chapter is finally here. I wanted to post it before but I was really busy, sorry ...
> 
> Once again I have to thank Eve for the end of this chapter, she helped me make it better <3
> 
> I wish you a good read and I hope you'll like it :)

Harry checked himself out in the mirror for the last time. He put his hair back in place and walked through the door. He was wearing a floral suit, his favorite thing at the moment, a black shirt, and black boots. He felt good, glamorous even, ready to face this evening and the whole world. It was like he was whole again, even if he didn't have any idea as of why. It should be a hard time for him right now with his break up, the phone call mere days ago. He thought that hearing it all would break him, bring him down to pieces everything he had tried to build since he stepped a foot in Los Angeles. It hadn't. He was still here, standing straight and feeling proud.

They had something great, strong and pure and nothing that happened now could destroy that. It was theirs. Nothing and nobody could take that away from them which made it a strength rather than a weakness Harry had thought it to be. They made it work for themselves for eight years. They did it. Even if, now, they broke it up, it was still within them. Deep inside. Like a treasure. They beat all the odds. Two men falling in love so young, being in the same boyband, evolving under the spotlights, fighting against the whole world. And still they had made it. Made further than anyone ever thought they would.

 

Harry smiled wholeheartedly thinking about it. He felt proud, contented, full of love.

 

He sat in the back of the black car Jo had sent him for the night. He was invited to a big party and decided to finally come out of his retreat. He had needed time to lick his wounds, but everything wasn't hurting anymore. It was strange, in a way, to feel so happy about letting one's big love go, but Harry was at peace with their decisions.

 

Jo watched him take a seat, a smile slowly forming on her lips the longer she scrutinized his face. She put her hand on his and squeezed it gently.

 

“ **You look good.** ”, she whispered, nodding to the chauffeur for him to start the car, then turning back to him. Harry touched his suit with his fingertips, delicately.

 

“ **It looks great, doesn't it?** ”, he said back, smiling, his eyes glistening but this time it wasn't from unshed tears. There were small sparkles painted on his irises, he was glowing, burning bright, like the sun Louis always knew he was. Thinking about Louis wasn't even painful anymore. The thought made him feel warm deep inside as if Louis was igniting a small fire in his stomach.

 

“ **I was not talking about the clothes even if it does, indeed, look great. Something has changed.** ”, she chirped. Harry smiled and turned his head to the window, looking out at the night. He didn't add anything, didn't comment, didn't deny.

 

Harry didn't feel like talking about what had happened, it was still theirs. He knew he was acting coy, maybe even childlike, it didn't really matter. He had given so much of himself and their relationship to the world that he felt like this belonged to them, no matter if it was Jo or anyone else he was talking to. He liked her a lot, but she was still his manager, raised in the showbusiness. This was where he had to draw the line. She was a lovely woman, she was on his side and had his back, he was aware of that, yet, it would cost him too much to deliver this secret to her, Harry knew this and even then, it was okay. He smiled again, facing the window, just thinking about the thrill of having a secret. Like when he was still dating Louis and they had kissed backstage before a show or hidden in a darkened spot at an event.

 

Harry noted to himself that he thought a lot more about Louis lately than he had a few months ago. Maybe because it wasn't so painful anymore to mention the man he loved. Or maybe something else, he wasn't quite sure how to put into words yet.

 

How to fathom it into something meaningful. It was abstract and he liked it that way.

 

The drive was silent for the rest of the way except for when Jo had called the director of the event they were to let him know Harry was coming, telling him to prepare the photographers which made Harry wince a little. It was not that he hated this part of the job, it simply made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. To be watched, photographed, analyzed from every angle would make anyone feel unsure. He chose to brush it off, focused on spending a good night out.

 

He took a deep breath before walking out of the car and onto the red carpet. He posed for almost ten minutesfor the magazines and paparazzies, familiar small and rehearsed smile on his lips and his hands clasped together in front of him. The 'Harry, look here's and 'Hey how's Kendall doing?'s didn’t get to him, not today. He was out to have a nice night, his mood almost tranquil in a way.Then went inside, still hearing all the photographers calling his name, still seeing all the flashes when he closed his eyes.

 

The first person he met was a man from his disc company, an older man wearing a stylish suit and a big mustache. Harry smiled at him and shook his hand politely.

 

“ **Mr Styles, I'm delighted to see you here tonight, I wasn't informed that you would honor us with your presence.** ”, he said, his voice low and serious, looking at the woman standing next to him, who Harry supposed was his assistant, telltale sheepish look on her face at the hidden reprimand. Harry smiled joyously.

 

“ **It was a last-minute decision on my part. I thought seeing some people would do good for my inspiration level these days.** ”, Harry knew mentioning a maybe-new-album would erase the heavy atmosphere around them. After chatting with the man for a bit, out of respect.He said his goodbyes and continued walking, politely saluting every person he met in the process, some unknown faces, some more familiar. It was a big event, apparently, Harry noticed at the big names that were written on the sitting plan when he searched for his own table. Some celebrities he was himself a big fan of.

 

He strutted to his chair, acknowledging every person who crossed his path with a smile or a wave.

Jo sat next to him only minutes after, finally having put her phone away in her clutch. Harry looked at her, as if it was the first time he really saw her, noting that she was really elegant.

 

“ **This dress suits you perfectly.** ”, he complimented her. She looked at him, surprised but still smiled.

 

“ **Thanks, love.** ”, she cooed, caressing his hand on the table. Harry had already told her that he wasn't intending on staying really late. He would eat dinner then go back home. Seeing people was a thing he would do but staying until dawn only to make a good impression, not so much. He wasn't ready to compromise, not anymore. He started his career at such a young age and made the decisions people surrounding him asked him to make, but now, being older he knew what he wasn't ready to give up. His health and personal life were the two things he was adamant about protecting.

 

They chatted about work until everyone was seated: around their table were now sat a young singer Harry had vaguely heard about, a journalist specified in new coming artists and his wife and a choreographer with his boyfriend. Harry wondered to himself, only for a split second, if it could have been him and Louis, sitting next to each other, officially, as in, in the public's eye _,_ in love, not worrying about what everybody else might think. He could have taken Louis' hand in his.

 

Harry slightly shook his head to erase those thoughts from his mind. He always found himself thinking about Louis lately and he couldn't help but question if it occurred as much before they broke up or if he was just becoming obsessed with his now ex-boyfriend.

 

Jo looked at him, perplex. He smiled at her in return still refusing to talk to her about his inner turmoil. He needed a drink, something as strong as the hurt of dismissing this fantasy. He finally ordered an iced tea. It was a thing to want to protect his personal life, but it was something else to divulge it himself while being drunk. Smothering the pain with alcohol was an easy way out, and his mother brought him up to do the right thing even if it was the most difficult one. He would not waste all the hard work he had done by exposing his breaking heart to the world. They didn't need to know and he didn't feel like sharing it. Like Louis said, it was the last string tying them together and he would cherish that as much as he could.

 

The lights dimmed and Harry startled out of his mind. Jo was looking at him, a worried wrinkle on her forehead. Harry smiled at her but, this time, it didn't do the trick, she simply looked at him more intently, seeming to search for a sign of what was going on. She had known about Louis, Harry had to tell her if he wanted her to react accordingly at any rumors that might come out. She had always known, yet she seemed to finally understand the extent of it all. It wasn't something that could stop at the get go. It was rooted so profoundly in Harry that he, himself, had no idea as to how to deal with it. Harry found himself hoping he'd see the happy, easygoing smile on Jo's face again, instead of this one, edging with worry.

 

Steve, the choreographer, cleared his throat and put his hand out in front of Harry.

 

“ **Hello, I'm Steve.** ”, he said as he shook Harry's hand. “ **And this is John, my partner.** ”, he added and it flowed out of his mouth so easily that Harry felt a spike of jealousy bloom in his chest. He still smiled and shook John's hand.

 

“ **Nice to meet you, I'm Harry.** ”, he stated and the whole table chuckled. He looked so surprised that Steve felt the need to explain.

 

“ **As if anyone on Earth doesn't know who you are, dear.** ”, he said, still laughing quietly. Harry felt his cheeks turn red, a little, embarrassment crawling under his skin.

 

“ **Oh, yeah, I always forget about that.** ”, he answered sheepishly. Jo patted his hand in comfort. Waiters came to their table to set the plates in front of them, cutting the conversation short for now. Harry didn't think he was hungry until that moment, too caught up in his thoughts to feel his stomach growling. The scent of the lobster made him salivate a little. He was starving.

 

“ **Enjoy your meal.** ”, John said before starting on his meal.

 

They were silent for a while, listening to the host of the evening talking about the business and the great artists who honored them by their presence. Harry rolled his eyes. He hated the hypocrisy of this world, the world he was a part of.

 

“ **Is it not difficult to be openly gay in this business?** ”, the question made Harry almost spit out his iced tea. He turned to Greg, the journalist, ready to answer when Steve started talking. That's when Harry realized what a horrible thing he was about to do. He was so ready to tell his version of it that it never occurred to him that he wasn't openly gay so no one was aware of it. He pinched his thigh to come back to reality.

 

“ **Not really. There are some mean people, I won't lie, but I'm good at what I do and the person I choose to have sex with and live with doesn't change the fact that I can be great at what I do. Like I always said, if someone fired me because of it, there will always be someone to hire me next. It doesn't matter, really. And the fact that I'm at peace with it makes it easier for everyone else to accept it, I think. I'm not proud because it's not an accomplishment, but I'm not ashamed. It's like being in love with a woman, to me it's the norm. No big deal.** ”, Steve explained it so simply that Harry felt like he was suffocating.

He excused himself and went straight to the bathroom at the back of the room. He leaned against the closed door and tried to breathe slowly, not to panic. Nobody ever talked about homosexuality in those terms around him and he felt sick to his stomach. He bent over the toilet, feeling the nausea crawling up his throat. He couldn't really explain what exactly made him react this way if he had to, but it was like something clicked inside him. As if a puzzle piece finally fell into place. He felt surer, more free, happier as he felt more broken at the same time if it even made sense.

 

After a moment the nausea was under control, his throat still tight. He didn't need to look at himself in the mirror he knew his hair was a mess, his eyes looked a bit red and lost but he could make it work, he could pull the wool over everybody's eyes.

 

He walked out of the toilets and was met with mesmerizing blue eyes. Louis was standing here, in the bathroom, looking worried, his blue suit looking dazzling on his _petite_ body. He was leaning against the wall facing Harry, questions swimming in his gaze. He didn't need to talk for Harry to understand he was concerned about him.

 

Harry felt his heart beat faster and he noted to himself that it always occurred anytime he was near Louis. He couldn't breathe normally, couldn't walk straight. He felt so much love for this man, he could cry from it.

 

He opened his mouth but couldn’t form the words that were scattered around his brain. Couldn't bring even himself to understand what had happened just now, let alone to someone else – to Louis. Louis took a step forward, still a few feet from Harry. He was too close and yet too far away from Harry. The latter wanted to hold him close, pull him to his chest and breathe in his familiar scent. He missed it all. Missed Louis like he never thought he could. It was worse now than it was when they were still a couple. It didn't make any sense. Or maybe it did and Harry just couldn't understand it. Didn't want to understand it.

 

“ **Are you alright?** ”, Louis asked. He was whispering like they were the other night, on the phone. Harry shivered at the memory. Was he alright? No, he totally was not. Could he say it to Louis? No, he couldn't. So he decided to lie.

 

“ **Yes, I'm fine.** ”, he answered. Louis looked at him, doubtful. His lips moved upward, trying to smile but it looked more like a grimace to Harry. He knew every expression of Louis'. This one was showing a pain they were both feeling and were both trying to overcome by hiding.

 

“ **Okay.** ”, Louis whispered. They were not saying anything, not verbally that is, but their eyes were exchanging so many things, many feelings. Harry felt dizzy.

 

“ **I have to go back.** ”, Harry coaxed, his voice so unsure. Louis walked to him, standing in front of his best friend. He took Harry's hand in his and they couldn't fight the shivers that shook both their bodies. Louis opened the hand he was holding and put something in it before folding Harry's fingers again, holding them closed with his small hands. Harry stopped breathing. He couldn't. If he smelled Louis' perfume he would just lose it and kiss him. His mouth watered at the thought. It would be so easy to bend down and claim his mouth with his. He could say it was because of the alcohol – even if he didn't drink any, Louis didn't have to know.

 

He could say he simply missed it.

 

Claim it was goodbye.

 

He gulped loudly when Louis let go of his hand and stepped back, going to the door.

 

“ **Listen to it, please. You don't have to tell me anything but, please, listen to this.** ”, he pleaded in a whisper. Harry blinked and Louis was gone. The only clue that it was not a dream was the USB-stick Harry was still holding.

 

Harry closed his eyes for a few seconds, collecting himself, and walked out of the bathroom. He went to his table without looking at anyone. He couldn't meet Louis' gaze another time. He wouldn't be able to control himself if he did. How could he not know that Louis was here? He didn't see his name anywhere on the seating plan.

 

Jo was watching him when he sat back down. She still looked worried and, at this moment, Harry knew he couldn't put up an elegant face. He couldn't do it. He stood back up.

 

“ **I'm so sorry to ditch all of you lovely people, but I'm not feeling well.** ”, he excused himself again. They all wished him a good night and to feel better. Jo walked him to the car without talking. She was just there and Harry was so grateful for her.

 

“ **Do you want me to come with you?** ”, she asked. Harry hugged her, kissing her forehead.

 

“ **It's alright. I just need to lie down and sleep it off.** ”, he said, trying to be sure of himself. He supposed he wasn't doing a good job at it from the look she gave him.

 

“ **Okay.** ”, she didn't push him. “ **Rest well, love. I'll take a taxi, don't worry.** ”, she hugged him too before walking back inside. Harry looked up at the night sky, letting the cold air make him feel better.

 

“ **Are you ready, Sir?** ”, the driver asked. Harry nodded and climbed in the car. He put his face on the windowpane, watching the city lights go by.

 

It took the driver a few shakes to the shoulder to wake Harry up. The young man opened his eyes, taking in everything around him before realizing he might have fallen asleep.

 

“ **Oh, sorry.** ”, he blabbered, groggy from the sleep still present in his body. The driver chuckled.

 

“ **It's okay. We're here.** ”, he added. Harry smiled at him and waved before walking out of the car. He was still holding onto the USB-stick like it was the most precious thing he owned. Deep in his heart, in this moment, he knew it might be.

 

His house was silent, smelling familiar and reassuring. He sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing at the idea that he was finally home, away from those people who were ready to burn him alive to make profit. That was the part of this business that he hated: that everything turned around money. Somehow a good evening had turned out to be everything but. Somehow, he now only remembered the things he hated about being Harry Styles _._ He toed off his shoes, took off his jacket and let it fall onto the floor. He walked straight upstairs to his bedroom, in the darkness. Leaving the lights off was something he enjoyed lately, to be faced only by himself. He sighed again once his feet touched the carpet in his bedroom.

 

He put the USB-stick in the stereo system that stood on his chest of drawers. Music was vital so this was the first thing he bought and put in place in this room, even before his own bed.

 

He waited a few minutes in anguish before pressing the play button. He was so tense now, not knowing what Louis gave to him. He wasn't sure he liked it, not sure he wanted to listen to it. Louis' laugh was the first thing he heard, shivers rolling down his whole body. His breathing fastened at the same time of his heart. It was not panic anymore, it was more like a wave of comfort, rolling himself in a blanket. It felt warm and safe, felt like home.

 

Harry asked himself, alongside with Louis, if everything was his imagination. It was Louis' new song, he assumed. Goosebumps appeared on his body, everywhere. It was like electricity flying throughout his body. Like he was connected to Louis, and he guessed he was.

 

Harry closed his eyes and listened closely to the song, to the words, to the intonations of Louis' voice. He was fighting it with everything inside him but, at the end of the song, he had to admit to it: with every word he fell in love with Louis all over again. He couldn't explain it, couldn't comprehend it either. He put it on repeat, still standing in the dark, letting the song claim this room, it was like Louis was here, at once, and Harry wasn't lonely and missing him. He sat on the bed, trying to cope with the emotion that was coming over him listening to the song. It wasn't about the words, or Louis' voice, it was about what the song carried with it. Something invisible, unexplainable. Something Harry was the only one to understand, to _feel_. Him and Louis. This song was a tie between them. Like Louis had woven a thread between his heart and Harry's. Harry closed his eyes, breathing slowly. He wasn't sure if it was panic that was coming or simply some feelings he had buried a few months ago.

 

He sat there, in the dark for what felt like hours, listening to the song on end. He couldn't think, couldn't really move, except from his fingers which were drawing something nervously on his thigh. Harry looked at them, like it wasn't his body anymore. He felt like a stranger in his bedroom. When the song ended, and Louis' voice had faded away, Harry stopped his fingers. He finally understood what he was doing : tracing his thigh tattoo. He did it so naturally it bothered him. Harry knew he was tattooed but he didn't really think about it on the daily basis. They were there, that was all. But it seemed like he finally understood something. Like he understood a new reason behind those tattoos. He stood up, unbuttoned his shirt, looking at his chest. In the darkness he couldn't see anything so he clicked on his bedside lamp.

 

Some of his tattoos were now in plain sight, Harry sighed. The song was now playing again and it felt like Louis would be standing in the room, watching Harry undress himself. It made Harry nervous in a way he couldn't explain. He took his shirt off. He stood there, in the semi obscurity of the room, not doing anything. His fingers were tracing something on his thigh again, instinctively. He dropped his gaze on there, trying to remember the outline of the drawing on his skin. He needed to see it so he took his pants off, only wearing his underwear anymore. The nervousness of standing here, half naked, was comforting, reassuring even. Harry sighed as Louis sang “ Does it matter anyway?” because yes, like Louis had said during their last phone call, it did matter. Everything mattered now. Harry also took off his underwear. If he had to explain it, he wouldn't be able to do it, because it was something elusive for him too. Every time he tried to explain it, it became further and further in his mind. It didn't matter because no one was asking. Not even Harry.

 

He walked to the mirror, standing there, the lamp casting a small light on his body, so that he could see the tattoos.

 

The song was still playing and Harry was watching at himself in his glorious nakedness.

 

His fingers picked up what he had stopped mere minutes before, tracing the tattoo on his sight first.

 

An unknown emotion crawled into him, slowly, very slowly, like a snake. It made its way up his thigh, to his belly, warming it up, to his chest, burning his heart and lungs, then to his neck, making him shiver. He wasn't cold, he was feeling good, exactly where he was supposed to be. He started to draw the other tattoos scattered on his pale skin.

 

One tear fell down his cheek when his finger traced the anchor tattooed on his left wrist. He drew every one of his tattoos to the rhythm of the words Louis was singing. A second tear fell from his eye and he didn't fight it. He welcomed it with an open heart. More tears came after that as he was caressing each of every one of his tattoos.

 

“ **You're still here, Lou.** ”, he whispered, overwhelmed by sadness and joy at the same time at the idea that whatever may happen Louis would always be inked in his skin. It was a comforting idea as it was a torturous one too. He would never be able to erase it all, even if he wanted to. Right now he was proud and strong. Nourished by the fact that Louis would forever be under his skin _and on it._ He cried freely, drowning in this song in which Louis declared to the world that he was missing Harry. It was one thing to admit it to Harry but, now, he told the whole world.

 

Harry didn't know how long he stood there, admiring the drawings scattered on his ivory skin, but it was still dark when he came back to reality. He paused the song, crawled under his sheets after retrieving his phone from his trousers' pocket.

 

“ _To: Lou._

 

_Message_ : Listened to it. It broke my heart.”

 

This was what he texted Louis. The answer came within seconds.

 

“ _From : Lou._

 

_Message_ : Broke mine too. Releasing it tomorrow.”

 

Harry didn't say anything else, falling asleep rapidly from the exhaustion he was feeling. He couldn't make up his mind about everything that had happened tonight. Did it change everything? Did it change anything?

 

Harry wasn't sure of it, yet, Louis' voice resonated inside his head as he fell asleep.

 

_Now I’m asking my friends how to say I’m sorry_   
_They say “Lad, give it time, there’s no need to worry”_   
_And we can’t even be on the phone now_   
_And I can’t even be with you alone now_

_Oh how, shit changes_   
_We were in love_   
_Now, we’re strangers_

 


	8. 7.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here !!
> 
> I'm trying to finish writing this story so I could post it quickly but it's taking me time to put the right words into place.
> 
> It's my baby and I want to make it as good as possible ! I hope you like this chapter too :D 
> 
> Let me know if something is good or bad <3

Harry opened the heavy wooden door and suddenly his throat felt too narrow to breathe properly. He still had his hand on the handle, his breathing erratic, like he had just ran twenty miles. He hadn't. He had just parked his car in the front yard, walked to the door and put his key in the lock to open it. That was it. There was no reason for him to feel so out of breath, feel like he almost drowned and was trying to spit all the water out of his lungs.

 

He took one step, let go of the door handle and leaned against the wooden piece, looking around. He knew this house like the back of his hand. He grew up in those rooms. He was back where he had started. Where everything started. His career, his life, his love. Everything.

 

The smell surrounding him at this moment was the same as when he was younger and coming home from school. It smelled like baking, fireplace, old houses and.... He didn't really know. It smelled like home, he was sure of that.

 

Once he finally could take a deep breath without feeling dizzy, Harry closed the door behind him and walked inside the living room. It felt like crawling inside one's bed after a very long day. He couldn't contain the smile that split his face. He felt happy and safe. With his right hand he caressed the back of the sofa, the edge of the window and the mantel of the fire place as he was walking through the room. It felt so little now as he was grown up. As a child he saw this room as his realm, big and vast. Now it was more like the tower of a castle but it was his and that was the most important thing about it.

 

He heard footsteps in the stairs so he turned to devour the surprise painting itself on his mom's face as she discovered him in her living room. Harry hadn't have time to let her know he was coming back. He felt the urge later the day before and – after having called Jo and making sure she wouldn't need him in the next few days – he had booked his plane tickets without consulting he own mother. He still had the keys after all.

 

The smile on his mother's face didn't have the time to fully form before she ran into his arms, holding him closer than ever before. She hummed in his ears, rocking him gently while massaging the nape of his neck. It was like she knew. And Harry guessed she did.

 

“ **My baby...** ”,was what she kept whispering against his ear. Harry smiled and hold her closer and tighter. She had always been so brave for him, letting him go away at sixteen, moving in with what was, at the time, a stranger to her, accepting his love for an older man, and trusting him, always, in every choice he made. Now, he understood what it might have cost her to let him free. To trust the world with one of her treasures.

 

“ **I'm here.** ”, Harry finally said. He had no idea how many minutes went by because the truth was he didn't care at all. He could spend all day hugging his mom. Harry wasn't one of those too proud youngsters who refused to show affection to their parents. He loved his whole family from the bottom of his heart and he would never feel ashamed to show it. Like he had never been ashamed to show and voice his love to Louis...but that was another topic.

 

She stepped back, holding him at an arm's length to look at him from head to toe.

 

“ **What are you doing here?** ”, she asked, still surprised to see him in her living room. “ **I wasn't expecting you.** ”, she added. The smile on her face was an indication that it wasn't a scold. She was so happy to have him home. She walked to the kitchen with her son by her side. She put the kettle on and took two mugs out of the cupboard. Harry, out of habit, took the milk out of the fridge. It was like going back in time. They used to have some mornings like that when he had enough time to come back home.

 

Harry sat on the worktop, something Louis had always done, his feet dangling against the cupboard doors.

 

“ **I was suffocating.** ”, he whispered. He was watching her move around the kitchen like someone would watch a ballet dancer. She was moving gracefully, slowly, like there was no work behind it even though Harry knew she had been through a lot lately. That made him almost hate himself to not have been here for her. For letting his work come first. Maybe he got lost along the way and needed time away to finally realize it. Maybe Louis had been right all along: they lost themselves.

 

“ **Really?** ”, she finally asked, serving the tea and putting a cup next to Harry's right leg. She leaned against the worktop next to him, near enough to hear if he whispered, far enough to not touch him. It was like letting him ride his bicycle for the first time: she wasn't holding him anymore but she would catch him if he ever came to fall. She was letting him be a grown-up and he loved her even more for that.

 

“ **It became too much to handle, I think. Everything felt like... everything felt wrong, strenuous, you know.** ”, Harry explained calmly. He sighed after his first gulp of tea. The drink warmed up his body and his soul. He needed this. All of it.

 

“ **What felt wrong? Work?** ”, she wondered. She looked at him and her gaze held all the warmth in the world for Harry. He felt a wave of love come over him. He felt so secure here, loved and accepted and that's what he had lacked for a long time now. The shame he had felt at the end of his relationship with Louis really took away pieces of him he didn't think he could ever take back. Harry felt dirty, unworthy. It was a difficult feeling to admit and to accept, he was aware of that, but being back with his mom made it possible. He could open up all of his wounds here, to clean them and finally let them heal.

 

He looked at the ceiling to keep away the tears he knew were coming. Maybe he could cry this time?

 

“ **All of it.** ”, Harry whispered, voice strangled, hands shaking but still holding his cup. It was like an earthquake was happening inside him but he was the only one to feel it. Everything was shook to the core.

 

“ **Harry...** ”, she lisped. He couldn't see here out of the corner of his eye but he knew she must look worried. He could sense it in her tone.

 

“ **It broke me...** ”, he added, still looking up even if it didn't stop the tears from rolling down his face. Harry had kept them away for so long now but couldn't anymore. He needed to feel this pain, it was his pain, theirs even. He had to feel it, one last time maybe. It was the only thing left of Louis and their relationship, it was still his. Deep inside of him, he knew he couldn't keep it any longer. He had to let go of it all, finally admit that it's over and accept it. Accept it for what it was: an ending. He couldn't keep holding on to this hope that maybe, one day, they'd find their way back to each other. The first step was to find back their way to themselves.

 

“ **It broke my heart, my body and my soul.** ”, he sniffled, wiping his nose with the arm of the sweatshirt he was wearing. Anne grimaced at the gesture, it was disgusting but she didn't say anything. “ **I had to let him go, Mom... I had to but I wish I had never done that.** ”, Harry added, still crying, his voice breaking even more with each word he muttered out. He finally looked down, holding his head low. He probably looked so miserable, so little and fragile that Anne put her cup down and came to stand in front of him, her hands caressing his knees in a comforting gesture.

 

“ **Did you talk to him?** ”, she inquired once Harry seemed to be calmer. Maybe too soon because he sobbed loudly as soon as she finished her sentence. He looked at her, so broken, so unsure, his green orbs glistening with tears and an excruciating pain that was shining through it all. She had never seen him like this. She had never seen so much grief in her little boy and she didn't know what to do or what to say. She hugged him, that was the only thing she could do at this point. Harry hinged forward and put his face in her hair. She didn't mind all the saliva, tears and snot she might get on her pajama and everywhere else. He was her little boy, her baby, and she would hold him as long as he needed her to.

 

“ **I'm here, baby.** ”, she hushed while rocking him slowly like she did when he was a new born and he couldn't sleep at night. He didn't move, just held onto her like she was his saving grace and maybe she was.

 

“ **He left me...** ”, Harry tried to speak, sobs strangling his words but he continued talking. He needed to let it all out. “ **He left me feeling guilty for loving him. I feel so dirty now.** ”, he confessed. It was the first time he talked about it with someone who wasn't Louis. It felt good to finally put it into words.

 

“ **He loved you, Haz.** ”, Anne said, taking his hands in hers and taking a step back. Harry seemed more collected now. She wanted to look at him while continuing this conversation.

 

“ **Yeah.** ”, was all he trusted himself to pronounce. Harry wasn't sure what he was feeling but he supposed it was what a broken heart should feel like. It was like he didn't have a foundation anymore, like he was drifting away from himself and his life. What exile must feel like. Harry had been taken away from his realm, from where he belonged. He felt rootless, empty and lost. Felt like happiness could never grow back in him, no matter how long he waited for it. It felt like winter had taken his body a hostage, keeping it from knowing another spring ever, nothing could bloom here anymore. It was like Louis had said to him once: he felt like he had died, like some parts of him were taken away from him and would never be given back to him.

 

Harry could never be the same person he had been before.

 

“ **He did, and still does.** ”, he added once his thoughts made some sense. His mom was still standing in front of him, watching him unravel under her gaze without saying anything. It broke her heart to see him like that, of course it did, but she couldn't intervene, it was his to devour and digest. It was his heart that was breaking apart.

 

“ **I don't know if we will ever stop loving each other...** ”, Harry confessed, voice still breaking as it sunk in at the same time he pronounced the words. He'll always and forever be in love with Louis, he could only admit that. It'll never fade away or disappear, it was on his skin, under it, engraved in his body, mind and soul. He would carry Louis with him, until the end of times.

 

“ **Maybe not.** ”, Anne finally said. They looked at each other for a long moment, in silence, pain written in their eyes. She understood and he finally opened his wounds and let someone see them. “ **Why didn't you tell me before?** ”, she asked. She wasn't pained that he kept it to himself, she was simply questioning, hoping it would maintain the conversation going long enough for her son to let everything out. He looked like there were some things he needed to formulate, express.

 

Harry let out a sob but his eyes were drying up slowly. He didn't wipe the tears from his face before answering. He took a gulp of tea and put the cup back on the worktop.

 

“ **I didn't want to disappoint you.** ”, he admitted, his shaking hands clasped onto his jeans to keep them from jittering around too much. Anne opened her mouth to clarify things but her words got stuck in her throat by the emotion that was now smothering her. How in the world could her son think that? It took her a few seconds and a lot of blinking to come back to her senses and erase the tears in her eyes. She took a step forward, her hands on her son's, holding them tightly.

 

“ **You could never disappoint me, love.** ”, Anne whispered, trying to convey all the love she had for her son. He looked so lost she wasn't sure he believed her.

 

“ **I failed, mom.** ”, Harry finally exhaled, sobbing again. She hugged him again, drawing soothing patterns on his back. She let him overtake his calmness before she even tried to talk back. She needed him calmer for her words to really matter. She needed him to listen and to hear what she had to say.

 

“ **What are you talking about?** ”, she asked, her voice low and her accent thick. Harry smiled despite the hurt and the pain because this accent was the best thing right now. He had grown up listening to this accent, finding it soothing, in a way, but he had lost his as the years had gone by and it never occurred to him that he would miss it. But he was. These were his roots, like this house, like Louis. If he had to give up on the love of his life he needed to keep the rest really near.

 

“ **I thought we would make it. Thought that if anyone could do it, it would be us.** ”, Harry explained. He wiped his nose on his sweatshirt again. He appeared to be calmer, more composed. Anne stroked his cheek, tenderly. She was still looking at him in the way that she did before. Like nothing had changed.

 

Anne finally let go of him, still watching closely though, worried, not knowing what to do or what to say. She had had her heart broken before, surely, but she never thought she would one day have to take those experiences and take those lessons to give them back to her youngest child, hoping he would understand and that it would bring him some peace. She would relive all her heartbreaks if it could help Harry get over this huge one.

 

Harry was now breathing more calmly, his hands looked steady, his eyes red and puffy were still glued to his mother's, not looking away from her as if his guilt and shame had flowed away with his tears. It felt like now they could really talk, reasonably. Anne took some steps back, walking in the direction of the living room, gesturing to Harry to follow her. He stood up, slowly, his legs were wobbly, his feet unsure but he walked to her, and they sat on the couch, each facing the other.

 

Anne took a cushion and put it on her lap, holding onto it, like a lifeline back to the shore. Harry sighed deeply, his breath shaky from the sobs still present in his chest.

 

“ **You not being with him anymore is not a failure, Harry.** ”, Anne explained, her voice trying to convey her love and her faith in him. Maybe she got it right because Harry's shoulders relaxed. He was sat there, playing with the seams of his sweatshirt.

 

“ **How so?** ”, he asked, not really sure what his mom was talking about. Anne smiled.

 

“ **Love is never about victory, or achievement. Love is about experience, feelings. Even if a relationship ends, there are always things remaining, darling. Feelings sometimes, memories, an evolution, some wounds too, I'll admit. Even if this relationship ends, you have been through some things, you've overcome obstacles, you've grown up. The person you are now is a result of this relationship, Harry. You'll always have some pieces of it all, with you, forever in your heart and soul.** ”, Anne tried to find the right words, those coming from her heart, filled with sincerity. Harry instinctively let his fingers draw the tattoos on his forearm. Louis would always be a part of him, he knew that but the thing he wasn't sure about was if it was a good thing or a bad one. Even if he did get over their relationship he would have those traces on his skin, Louis' name engraved in his heart with burning iron. If he had the chance to fall in love again, a part of him would always belong to Louis, no matter what, no matter who would cross his path. Everything they shared was written on their skins for eternity and Harry felt a wave of pride. Louis loved him back, Louis got their love tattooed on his body for the whole world to see. Harry smiled slowly.

 

“ **You're right.** ”, he whispered, unknown feelings sparkling in his green orbs. Anne was watching him caress his wrist and forearm without understanding why. But her boy seemed to feel better and she couldn't feel more relieved.

 

“ **It's just....** ”, Harry started, stopping for a moment, trying to make sense of the words that were coming to him suddenly. He felt like he could open his mouth and some flood would come out. “ **I'm not sure I can turn the page on our love... I'm not sure I'll ever love anyone as much as I loved him. He's everywhere, Mom...** ”, Harry finally let out. There were no more tears, no more sobs but the emotion was even stronger now. Anne took one of his hand in hers, a sad smile on her lips.

 

“ **I know.** ”, Harry was sure that she actually did know, from the sparkle of pain that shone through her eyes for a single second. He gave her hand a tender squeeze. “ **What happened?** ”, she asked. She couldn't imagine what might have happened for her two boys to call it quits.

 

Harry shrugged, looking away, like all their memories were playing before his eyes.

 

“ **Fear, I guess. It was so difficult to stay together when our whole world didn't want us to be. Louis wasn't ready to try and be open about our relationship. I don't blame him, I understand it, it's just that... it destroyed me to be the only one giving, to be broken each time he told me we couldn't see each other. We spent weeks without seeing each other and I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't want to be one of those people who gives an ultimatum, so I just ended it while I still could. It destroyed me as much as it destroyed him even if he's better at pretending than I am. He told me that he would wait for me, praying I would come back to him some day.** ”, Harry explained and he was surprised of how easy it was to finally let it out.

For weeks, he had kept it to himself, letting it eat at him slowly, feeling like it was haunting him when it was finally so easy to let it all go away. Confiding about it let him feeling more free than he had felt in months.

 

Anne took a deep breath in, chest tight from the emotion and the guilt.

 

“ **What about you?** ”, she asked, not sure what to say otherwise. She loved Harry, she also loved Louis, he's been a part of their family for so many years, holding strong despite all the craziness surrounding them. They've both been so grounded, so mature about everything, she had always thought they would make it.

 

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, appearing smaller. Him being all curled up on the sofa made Anne reminisce of all those evenings when Harry had come home from school and had sat there with her and Gemma, the three of them relinquishing on the others' presence. They had been a strong team on their own and a stronger one as soon as Louis had joined them.

It felt so odd to think about the upcoming weeks, months and years, maybe, without him with them. It kind of broke Anne's heart but she kept silent, not wanting to make it any more difficult for her son.

 

“ **I do not want to hang onto this tiny shred of hope. It would be easy to spend my life wishing we could be together again, it would be so easy because it's what I want, what I need, even, but I owe it to him to let him be free again, to live as if he had never met me.** ”, Harry sighed, his eye twitching as it did every time he was lying or trying to convince himself of something that his heart was doubting. A thin smile drew itself onto Anne's lips, a small and unsure one.

 

“ **Harry, love, you cannot hope for him to act as if he had never met you. He loves you, had for a few years now. You've marked him as much as he marked you. You've both been through a lot, together, as individuals but also as a couple. Things ended, true, but you'll never erase it, never. You owe to Louis – and yourself – a shot at happiness. A real chance at letting happiness bloom again in your lives. Please, just don't try to erase it.** ”, Anne countered, her words full of passion and wisdom.

 

A phone rang and startled them both back to reality. The world was still turning around them. Anne went to the kitchen to search for the ringing object as Harry went to the garden, needing a bit of fresh air. He didn't know what to think, what to say, or what to feel. Confusion was the main feeling floating around his mind and body. He had needed to come back here to center on himself and, since he had put foot on the British soil, he had only thought and talked about Louis and their relationship. Even here, in the garden, in his family house, he still remembered Louis.

 

Harry heard Anne coming back from the small noises her steps made on the gravel in the path leading to where he was standing, his arms around his chest. She stood next to him, watching the cat running around in front of them, the flowers she had planted last week. She had loved this garden of hers from day one and suspected that Harry had too. He seemed happy to be back.

 

“ **It was yours.** ”, Anne finally said after a few minutes spent in a comfortable silence. They could spend hours next to each other without needing to speak at any moment. They were quiet and pleased with watching people and life go on without them for a while.

 

Harry turned to her, his eyebrows crunched in surprise.

 

“ **My phone? Who was it?** ”, he asked.

 

Anne looked at him as he should already know, and maybe he did, yet he preferred not to think about it right now.

 

“ **Louis.** ”, she answered as he handed him his phone. He took it so slowly, as if it might explode in his hand.

 

“ **And?** ”, he wondered, still not letting his gaze drop to the small phone he was holding tightly in his right hand. Anne's eyebrows raised with surprise.

 

“ **And what?** ”, she exclaimed but finished the sentence herself, understanding what he was thinking. “ **Don't be daft, Haz. I didn't answer. It stopped ringing as I reached the kitchen. I simply thought you'd want to call back, maybe.** ”, she explained, slowly, her voice full of stress. Harry shrugged, smiled at her and turned back to the garden. They didn't speak for a few seconds, going back to the easy silence.

 

“ **I imagined it as an American movie, where the mother answers the phone and plans a visit from the wronged boyfriend for them to make up under the rain, before having a big white wedding on the beach, or something like that.** ”, Harry confessed, a small laugh resonating in his words. Anne burst into a warm laugh, soon followed by Harry himself. They laughed until they had small tears at the corner of their eyes. Harry was still holding his stomach when they stopped.

 

“ **I didn't. If you want him here, you'll have to tell him yourself.** ”, Anne clarified. She squeezed her son's arm and walked back inside the house. Harry took a deep breath in, letting the fresh air clear his thoughts that were going in circles with Louis' name and face coming back every now and then.

 

He looked at his phone, lighting up the screen to see Louis had called two times. Harry counted quickly in his head that it should be around 1:30am in Los Angeles right now. If Louis had called this late, maybe something had happened.

 

He dialed the number he still knew by heart, not needing to think about it. There were only two rings until he heard Louis' voice again.

 

“ **Harry?** ”, Louis asked, his tone calm even though his voice was high-pitched. Harry knew he was feeling nervous, he could hear it in his breathing. Could feel it under his skin.

 

“ **Yeah.** ”, Harry whispered, not trusting his words to say anything else.

 

Louis sighed deeply and Harry felt he was the one letting the pressure escape. It scared him how much better he felt now that Louis was on the other side of the line.

 

“ **I'm sorry to call this late.** ”, Louis offered. Harry let it all sink in, the call, Louis' voice, all the mixed feelings he was now submerged in.

 

“ **'s okay, I'm back home.** ”, Harry revealed, Louis' breathing stopping in astonishment.

 

“ **Oh, okay.** ”, he lisped a few seconds later. The time Harry used to remind himself to continue to take deep breaths in, exhaling through his nose to stop his heart from pounding inside his chest. He wanted to keep cool, composed, his mind clear to speak with Louis. It seemed impossible as his heartbeat became faster as soon as Louis said something.

 

“ **Great minds think alike.** ”, Louis said, voice hushed, so low Harry wasn't sure he heard it right.

 

“ **How so?** ”, he asked and his heart forgot everything about prudence and calm to pound painfully against his ribcage. Harry tried to stay as calm as possible but the idea that Louis might be an hour from here made him feel queasy.

 

“ **My flight is in a few hours. That was why I called you, to let you know I'll be going home if you wanted me to check on your mum.** ”, Louis explained in a whisper.

 

Harry let himself slowly fall to the floor, sitting in the damp grass. It wasn't shock, nor surprise that came over him, it was something that resembled fear and relief mixed together. He couldn't find anything to say back, no joke, no wit. He was feeling empty and full at the same time, lost and found. He emitted a small noise and Louis sighed.

 

“ **It's good if you're with her. Talk later, bye.** ”, Louis rushed. He had hung up when Harry found the strength to speak again.

 

Louis was flying back home. Harry came here to leave it all behind him, to clean the slate and now Louis was also coming back and everything around reminds him of their relationship.

 

 

_Baby_   
_Why don't you just meet me in the middle_   
_I'm losing my mind just a little_   
_So why don't you just meet me in the middle_   
_In the middle_

 


	9. 8.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's chapter is here ! :D 
> 
> This morning I finished a new chapter and I feel like the end is slowly coming which breaks my heart a bit but once it's done, I'll be able to post two chapters a week, I think :) 
> 
> I was thinking, as this chapter is quite a short one, maybe i could post another on Monday, if you want to. Let me know :D

Harry was sat at the wooden table on the terrace for what seemed like hours. The sun was on its way down, casting shadows on the man's face, creating games of light in the trees, changing the atmosphere into something more crispy, more intimate. Harry wasn't sure why he was there, or, actually, he knew why. He simply didn't know why those thoughts were coming back to him, pulling him back to the waters he had left a month ago.

He thought to himself that, maybe, a glass of wine or a cigarette could be the solution to take the edge off. However, he didn't smoke, never had because of his asthma, and drinking wouldn't be the answer when he wanted to think clearly. He dismissed the thought with a shrug. His phone was set next to his crossed hands, on the table, and Harry couldn't help but gaze at it every so often, almost waiting for the screen to light up.

 

Anne had come outside to check on him, leaving him alone after he had assured her he was alright.

 

Harry knew that he looked nervous, he looked a mess, he was certain of it. How could he not? His foot was tapping the floor in a quick rhythm, nervousness taking over his body. If he could, he would put on his working out clothes and would go for a run. A long one where he could finally stop the wheels of his brain from turning and turning again to the point he felt like going crazy.

 

After Louis had hung up the day before, Harry had tried to occupy himself, to empty his mind by helping his mom with the cooking, baking and gardening. He tried to write some music too. Though he wrote down some sentences, he put it all in the bin when he realized they all looked like love letters. To the same person, inevitably.

Everything took him back to Louis and the harder Harry fought it the stronger it came back around. Harry didn't know what to do anymore. He had thought that going away, thousands of miles away would help him cope with it, only to discover that Louis had had the same reasoning. They would be closer now than they had been in months. Only eighty miles or so. Almost close enough for Harry to sense Louis next to him, maybe smell his perfume around.

 

It didn't make any sense, he knew that, and yet he couldn't fight the emotions, the lump forming at the pit of his stomach.

 

Suddenly Harry felt compelled to just move, he felt restless. He stood up, pushing the chair away with a loud noise as he did. His hands were clammy, his eyes crazy. He walked back and forth muttering things to himself, trying to make himself relax, to come back to his senses. He was driving himself insane. He grabbed his phone and walked inside the house, his footsteps echoing loudly against the floor. He jogged up the stairs, changed into working out clothes, fished into his bag for his earphones. He was restless, his breathing raspy and panting. He needed to go out, go for a run before he lost the last shreds of sanity he could grasp onto.

 

Harry went back downstairs, looking for his mom. She was sat in the living room, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. She looked up to him as she heard him. He supposed he must be quite vision from the look on her face: surprise, worry and tenderness at the same time.

 

“ **I'm going for a run.** ”, he said. She raised her eyebrows, looked quickly at her watch.

 

“ **But, it's nearly time for dinner.** ”, she exclaimed weakly. Harry looked away, his phone tightly clasped between his hands, screen facing downwards so he couldn't see it anymore.

 

“ **I need to run a little.** ”, he explained and who was she to keep him from some peace of mind? She nodded, he smiled at her and exited the house. Harry selected his playlist, finally relieved at the idea of some relief from the stress that was making it hard for him to handle everything.

 

The feeling of his footsteps against the muddy roads, the familiar landscape around him, the music resonating in his ears, the rhythm of his breathing was making him quieter, calmer. His heartbeat regulated itself giving Harry some control back. He could do this, could run for hours without feeling any fatigue.

He could run for miles and miles but he couldn't keep Louis from popping into his mind. As he took a turn to the field at the top of the hill, memories started to flash in front of his eyes. Louis holding his hand as they lost the X-factor competition, Louis waking up next to him for the first time in their apartment. Louis crying after the first time their team had told them they couldn't be open about their relationship. Louis kissing him under the covers as they were sharing a bed in the small cabin at Harry's house as they were supposed to rehearse as a band. Louis asking him if he was sure he was in love with him, arguing that he was so young maybe he had misunderstood his feelings. Louis breaking apart as they decided to split, as a band. Louis at his doorstep in New York as they had made love for the last time. Louis calling him at night, admitting that he was missing him. Louis so unsure and tender as they made love for the first time, on Harry's eighteenth birthday. Louis, Louis, Louis...

 

Harry stopped, out of breath, drenched from the rain that had started pouring down on him. He hadn't slowed down, hadn't stopped before. He looked around for a shelter, something to protect him a little from the rain, he saw a big tree and hesitated to go under. He looked up at the sky, fisting his hands.

 

“ **Goddamn it !** ”, he shouted, his cry echoing in the empty field.

 

He finally walked slowly there, dragging his soaked body, his burdened soul. He kept his gaze on the ground until he was standing in front of the trunk, Louis' new song starting to play in his earphones. His heart fastened even more as when he was running minutes ago, banging against his chest so much that Harry felt the need to put his hand on it, making sure it wasn't going to jump out of his ribcage.

 

His breathing had come to the point of being erratic, it was almost a gasp, and it was not from the run, nor was it because of the rain. Harry knew what had caused it, though he stubbornly kept his gaze to the ground. He was stuck under this tree for god only knows how long, he would have to face it, that what the little voice was saying on repeat over Louis' voice.

 

He couldn't.

 

Admitting that he had lost this battle, he finally let his eyes look upwards, slowly, inch by inch until it was the only thing in his sight. It was small but it seemed to Harry that it took all the free space. Harry took a deep breathe in, keeping it in for a few seconds before exhaling slowly through his mouth. He was on the verge of panicking and he was all alone in the middle of a field, in the countryside. He could die there before someone found him.

 

When he was almost in control, Harry let in fingers brush the little engraving, fine lines in the bark, cut with a knife a few years back that read : L + H = TLA.

 

Harry felt his heart break a little more if possible. He stroked it one last time then sat down, despite the ground being wet and muddy, he needed to feel something concrete under his body, to help him cope maybe or simply feel the nature around him, Harry didn't know anymore. He took his phone out of his pocket, watched the time and sighed. 7:15pm. He pinched the base of his nose, closed his eyes as he was breathing slowly, calmer than before. He opened his eyes again, letting his gaze wander on the field, the trees surrounding him, the gray sky. He couldn't remember if the weather was this bad when he had left the house. He wiped the water out of his eyes and put his hair back.

 

He unlocked his phone, hesitated a moment then opened his texts, clicked the conversation with Louis open. He was febrile, unsure.

 

“ _To : Louis_

 

_Message : I'm sorry._ ”

 

He didn't expect Louis to text him back and furthermore not to text back within seconds. It startled him when his phone vibrated. He opened it with feverish fingers.

 

“ _From : Louis_

 

_Message : About what?_ ”

 

Harry closed his eyes, arguing with himself if it would be a good idea to continue this conversation. There was a part of him which wanted it to be over, close the book and start a new one, and the other part of him – the biggest one, to be honest – which screamed for him to answer, to finally let out everything he was withholding deep inside himself, to finally be transparent with Louis, to start anew, a clean slate they both deserved. And, Harry had to admit, it was easier to explain his messy thoughts through texts than it was when Louis' voice was making his heart and body crave the other man.

 

“ _To : Louis_

 

_Message : I thought about picking you up from the airport, but couldn't._ ”

 

He hit the send button and locked his phone, holding it against his chest. He gasped when he felt it vibrate again minutes after. Louis was as eager to answer as Harry was to read the answer.

 

“ _From : Louis_

 

_Message : Never thought you would, 'm honored, Haz._ ”

 

Harry let a sad smile draw itself onto his lips. He couldn't overcome the fact that they were talking more now that they weren't together anymore, than they did months ago. Another text arriving kept him from thinking too much about it.

 

“ _From : Louis_

 

_Message : Did you know when I was supposed to land?_ ”

 

Harry opened his mouth, trying to form a word but it was a laugh that escaped his full lips. A loud laugh that shook him entirely.

 

“ _To : Louis_

 

_Message : Just realized I didn't, actually._ ”

 

Everything around him was silent, peaceful, nobody else in sight, nothing but nature to be seen for miles and miles. They had chosen this tree to engrave their love in because they figured it would be their secret. Who would come here to look at their naive demonstration of love. Harry could admit it now: at that time he had believed it to be true, that their love was meant to last forever. How deluded he was.

 

“ _From : Louis_

 

_Message : Silly boy. I luv u._ ”

 

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he read the message, not sure what to think of it. Being back here made him feel as if he was still this teenager who was craving Louis' attention and love. But this teenager was dead, as was their relationship even if it was the easiest thing in the world to pretend it wasn't. What they had was within reach, so close and yet so far. Harry felt like he could grab it if he tried hard enough. The question was : did he want to?

 

“ _To : Louis_

 

_Message : I'm at our tree._ ”

 

It was the only thing he could manage to type. His phone started ringing within seconds and, instinctively, he answered when he saw Louis' face on the screen.

 

“ **Hello?** ”, he asked in a whisper. It was a routine now: whispering to each other every time they were on the phone. Maybe it was a way of staying in the bubble they had had before, or maybe it was their way of coping, Harry wasn't sure.

 

“ **Is it still there?** ”, Louis questioned, his voice just as low as Harry's. Harry closed his eyes, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He put his hand in his hair, pulling it out of his face, brought his knees to his chest.

 

“ **Yes.** ”, he whispered.

 

They were silent for a moment, letting it sink in. Harry was hanging onto Louis' words, breaths, noises. He was waiting for something to happen or to break. Something to be different than before, maybe. Or something to finally put an end to it.

 

“ **Maybe it's a sign.** ”, was the only sentence Louis could pronounce.

 

“ **Don't, please don't.** ”, Harry pleaded, his rapid breathing loud enough for Louis to hear it on the other side of the line, conveying the panic that was taking over Harry's body.

 

“ **Sorry.** ”, Louis said. “ **One, two, three...** ”, he counted slowly and Harry started counting with him slowly, breathing in and out between each number. They made it to ten before Harry felt better.

 

“ **I have to go home, Mom's waiting for me.** ”, Harry explained once he was able to speak again. Louis hummed but stayed quiet. The younger leaned against the tree and stood up, his legs weak from the run and the emotions. He brushed the engraving one last time and turned around, his phone still against his ear even though neither of them were speaking. They were listening to the other simply being on the other side of the line.

 

“ **Can I come see you tomorrow?** ”, Louis finally let out. Harry started walking towards the small road leading back to his mom's house.

 

“ **Is that really a good idea?** ”, Harry interjected, his brows furrowed, biting his bottom lip. Louis sighed.

 

“ **I need a friend.** ”, was what he answered and who was Harry to deprive him from his best friend?

 

“ **Okay.** ”, he agreed even though he wasn't sure he had it in him to be a friend to Louis right now.

 

“ **Okay. Okay, cool, thanks, Haz. Bye then.** ”, Louis murmured and the line went dead after that.

 

Maybe Harry had been selfish by accepting because he, too, needed a friend right now. The doubt was present in his mind nonetheless: could either of them be a friend to the other under these circumstances? Would it bring anything positive to speak to each other, to spend time together? Harry wasn't sure but it didn't keep him from smiling as he entered the kitchen, drenched, looking exhausted but kind of happy.

 

_What do you do when a chapter ends?_ __  
_Do you close the book and never read it again?_ __  
_Where do you go when your story's done?_ _  
_ _You can be who you were or who you'll become_

 

_It's not over 'til it's all been said_ _  
_ _It's not over 'til your dying breath_

 


	10. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a chapter on Monday ! Happy Easter :) 
> 
> I've written a really important chapter yesterday and the end is approaching slowly. This story will be 14 chapters long if my characters decide to let me write it my way, haha :)
> 
> This chapter had been hard for me to write, I think I've cried for an hour or so. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

A knock on the door is what startled Anne out of her daydreaming, watching her son sat on the grass in the garden while she was drinking her morning tea, wearing her fluffy bathrobe. She had come downstairs fairly early only to discover Harry was already outside, his big sweatshirt on and his earphones pouring music loud enough to cover the noises of the world.

She put her cup down and walked to the door, she looked at the clock in the living room and furrowed her eyebrows: it wasn't even eight in the morning and they already had visitors. She opened the door and found herself at a loss of words. Louis was standing in front of her, deep undereyes bags, his face looking tired and emaciated, his sweatshirt too big on his frail shoulders but he still seemed strong and determined.

 

“ **Hi**.”, he murmured, his gaze deep in Anne's eyes. She couldn't look away even if she wanted to, he was hypnotic. She didn't take the time to smile at him, she stepped forward and pulled him to her, holding onto him like he was holding onto her. They hugged tightly, not saying anything. It felt like coming home, coming clean, it felt like healing in a way, for both of them.

 

“ **Oh, baby.** ”, Anne whispered in his ear, stroking the hair at the back of his head.

 

Louis let go of her minutes later, his hand on her waist and the other one holding hers.

 

“ **I'm so happy to see you.** ”, he confessed, smiling at her in the same way she was smiling at him, no hard feelings between them. “ **I thought...** ”, he didn't finish his sentence, Anne squeezing his hand harder, keeping him from formulating the thought that was haunting him.

 

“ **Don't be daft, darling, you've always been family and you'll always be.** ”, she countered, her voice low and soft. They don't say anything else, because they know and they understand. It had always been this way with Louis and the Styles family: words were never needed. There was an understanding between them, a comfort, a warmth. They walked inside the house, side by side, their arms touching with each step, the same smile drawn on their lips. Anne closed the door as Louis looked around. He put down the little backpack he had brought with him.

 

“ **Where is he?** ”, he finally voiced the only question rolling around in his mind. He had never thought that Harry would agree to seeing him, yesterday still seemed like a dream to Louis. All the texts, hearing Harry's voice felt like a welcome home gift of some sort. The little shred of hope Louis was protecting and nurturing became stronger and bigger with each of their interactions. Louis couldn't keep it from growing even if he had tried.

 

“ **Go, 's okay.** ”, Anne encouraged him when she saw him stood in the living room without moving. She pushed him gently on the back. He stepped slowly to the glass door at the back of the living room and his breath got caught in his throat the moment he laid eyes on Harry, still sat on the grass, eyes closed, face facing the sky. He was a vision to behold. Louis felt his heart beat faster in his chest. Everything was different here, like he could finally be himself, could feel those feelings he thought had died weeks ago. He was in love with Harry that was the truest truth he had.

He opened the door, his hand trembling as he did so. The adrenaline was even more powerful now that it had been before each one of their concerts. He walked towards Harry feeling like the fate of their relationship was on his shoulders, if they even had a relationship anymore. He understood Harry's decision, accepted it even, and yet a part of him was still fighting to have it back. He could never admit that they were over. Louis' heart would always belong to Harry, no matter what, no matter how much time flew by. What they had found at sixteen was rare, he was aware of it, it had been a blessing to meet the love of his life at such a young age and to have been a witness of his growing.

 

He thought Harry would hear his footsteps on the gravel but the younger boy didn't move, eyes still closed. As soon as he was close enough to hear Harry's breathing, Louis crouched to put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry didn't need to look to know it was Louis: the electricity that traveled through his entire body was indication enough. A strong tidal wave of want washed over him, leaving him panting, his eyes open on the smaller man next to him. Louis smiled at him. Harry was too overwhelmed to mirror it back.

 

“ **So, 's here then. Where broken hearts go?** ”, Louis asked, amused, gesturing to the garden. Harry looked around, still no words escaping his mouth. The mention of one of their songs that Harry had written wasn't enough to light the air between them. This song was a testimony of the challenges they had to face during their relationship, Harry had poured his heart out in this song.

 

“ **Hi.** ”, Louis whispered, unsure, nervous as he had been the first time he had talked to Harry eight years ago, after he had seen the younger boy smile from afar. Louis had been speaking to some people in the big hall where they had all been waiting for their X-Factor experience to begin when his eyes had caught sight of something bright, burning like the sun. Louis had turned to see what is was and the air had gotten caught in his throat as he had seen Harry laughing with another contestant. Louis had never believed in love at first sight, or anything of that kind. He was smarter than that. And, yet, in that moment he knew he had fallen immensely in love with the curly-headed boy he had never talked to. Once he had had the chance to speak to him, he had been more nervous than ever before. This feeling was back again, years later.

 

It was stupid because now he knew the man, knew his voice, his eyes, his heart and soul. He knew his body, his thinking, his breathing, his hurting. It made it more difficult, in a way, because back then he hadn't had anything to lose. Now, he had everything to gain.

 

Harry looked at him straight in the eyes but nothing moved on his beautiful face. No smile, no surprise, no emotion. Louis had to stop himself from rushing to the man, to hold him against his chest, to feel him underneath his fingertips. Instead, he sat down, a meter from Harry, feeling like this would be the most important conversation they ever had. The hardest one, too, he was sure of it.

 

Harry was playing with the rings on his fingers, his eyes glued to the grass and his feet. Louis felt even more nervous now, a feeling he couldn't understand nor explain. It was there, spreading inside of his chest, pushing against his heart and lungs, making everything more painful, in a way he had never imagined. They were finally together, not crying or yelling. Louis could have cried from the overwhelming emotion strangling him right now. He was afraid, surprised, full of want and love.

That was the thing: in this moment suspended in time, he was utterly in love with the man sitting next to him. If he closed his eyes he could envision all their future, the life he wanted to lead with Harry by his side, holding his hand, supporting him in every decision he would make.

 

It was terrifying to be the only one seeing this future, to be aware that this future could never come to life and not being able to see any other one. He kept telling himself that he had to find a new dream, yet, he couldn't. The question that kept haunting him was: had he ever dreamed of something without Harry in the picture for the last eight years? He had not.

 

He didn't know how.

 

Louis cleared his throat a couple of times before starting to talk.

 

“ **How are you?** ”, he tried to ask but it came out so frail, almost broken, illustrating how he was feeling. He had thought he had felt bad before, but being here, next to Harry, knowing that what they had was gone made it harder. It was like he was torn apart, his bones cracking, his flesh bleeding out on the floor. He was being dismantled, broken down into pieces. Louis had no idea how he could survive this pain. Was Harry feeling the same hurt? He hated himself for putting Harry in this situation. He could give everything he had to keep Harry from experiencing those emotions.

 

“ **Not sure.** ”, Harry rasped out. His voice sounded hoarse, like he hadn't talked to anyone in days. Louis could relate, he was sure that the open wound in his chest had a match in Harry's. They had always been in synch, like Harry was the echo of everything he had felt, sensed, said, believed. And Louis had been Harry's echo for eight years as well, feeling lost at the idea of simply being on his own, not being the image of someone else, not being the imprint of another human being.

 

“ **You need a friend?** ”, Harry finally asked, coming back from his day dreaming, startling Louis out of his thoughts. Louis took a deep breathe, toying with the grass under his feet.

 

“ **Can I be honest with you?** ”, he whispered. Harry looked at him, surprise painted in his green orbs.

 

“ **Could you ever not be?** ”, Harry countered, Louis smiled. It was the truth, they had always been honest and open to each other.

 

“ **I don't need a friend..** ”, Louis admitted. He turned slightly, finally facing the man he loved. Their eyes found each other, a thread weaved itself between them, like the red thread of fate. Louis was certain they were meant to be together.

 

“ **You said...** ”, Harry started to say but Louis put his finger on his lips, interrupting him rudely.

 

“ **I know. I don't need a friend, Harry, I need you.** ”, he confessed. Harry turned away quickly, breaking the touch between them. They didn't need to be meters away to feel the distance between them. Louis was left breathless, his heart beating like crazy in his chest. Harry was still sat inches away, he could touch him if he tried. He wanted to touch him, feel him, caress him. Damn it, he longed for Harry, for everything Harry.

 

“ **Don't...** ”, Harry begged, his voice low and broken.

 

They stayed silent for a while, taking in the atmosphere, all the things left unsaid floating around them, in the air they were breathing, the light that was shining down on them.

 

“ **It's for the best, Lou.** ”, Harry said timidly, his voice trembling but not breaking. Louis sat straighter, his knees to his chest as to keep the pieces of his breaking heart from falling on the floor, scattering around them to show the whole world what was happening inside him. This world's always been so keen on knowing what was going on in his personal life. Here it was: Louis Tomlinson was being dumped by the love of his life, his boyfriend of eight years. It hurt even more than he imagined.

 

“ **Is that what you tell yourself to feel better or is that the truth?** ”, Louis responded, bitter and hurt.

 

They had always reacted differently to stress and hurtful things: Harry shut everyone out, bottling everything up, not talking nor looking at everyone; Louis said everything that was crossing his mind, trying to be as mean as he was feeling bad. He didn't want to be this way to Harry, but seeing him so calm, so composed about them being over ignited a fire inside Louis he couldn't control. He was enraged. He tried to breathe slowly and regularly to keep his blood from boiling inside his veins. Harry still wasn't looking at him.

 

“ **I don't know. I think it's for the best. It couldn't go on as it was, Lou.** ”, Harry explained very calmly. Louis wanted to shake him, to kiss him dumb, to knock some sense into him. To make him see that they loved each other too much to give up now. Louis bit his bottom lip, his hands clasped on his joggers, eyes closed and air coming slowly out of his nose. It was infuriating to feel this turmoil inside him and watch Harry be so calm.

 

“ **Maybe if we tried harder...** ”, Louis whispered. He couldn't trust his voice to not break if he spoke louder. Harry turned his head very slowly to finally look at Louis, their eyes finding each other again. There were so many emotions mixed in their orbs, it was like a new painting that they had never seen before. A masterpiece to go along with their broken hearts.

 

“ **No, Lou. We can't. I've tried for months, all alone, to find a way to make this work. It doesn't. Now that you don't have me anymore you want to fight... I've spend months, very long and excruciating months, feeling like you were ashamed of me, of us, thinking that you didn't love me anymore but simply couldn't find the words to tell me. I can't go through that again...** ”, Harry confessed and, inside his green pupils, Louis could finally see the pain he had put him through. Looking at Harry closely now made him see all the dark circles, his pale skin. He looked exhausted and older.

 

“ **But I do, love you.** ”, Louis countered vehemently.

 

Harry looked up to the sky.

 

“ **I love you too.** ”, he said, his tongue forming every word very carefully. Louis felt the immensity of this love in every corner of his body.

 

“ **It's just not enough.** ”, Harry added and the weight of those words crushed Louis to the point he nearly couldn't breathe anymore. He pinched the base of his nose, his eyes closed as the last barrier to the tears that were about to flood his face and voice.

 

“ **What would be enough?** ”, he asked, no faith behind this sentence. He knew that it was over now. He came here, thinking that, maybe, he could win Harry over, but now, he was sure of it. There was no way out except ending things properly.

 

“ **You. If you wanted this, were prepared to fight for this, to commit to it and thought it was enough to come clean to the rest of the world. I'm tired of being a dirty little secret, Louis.** ”, Harry explained, calmly. Louis took his hand in his, as a reflex but Harry didn't react. Having his big hand under his fingers made Louis feel small, unsure.

 

“ **I'm sorry.** ”, Louis admitted, swallowing loudly, his throat tighter than before. Harry caressed the top of Louis' hand with his thumb.

 

“ **I know.** ”

 

They stayed silent for a moment, appreciating the last time as an almost couple before finally accepting that their paths were separating for good and they'd have to learn how to go on on their own.

 

“ **We became so close our memories look a lot the same.** ”, Louis said, breaking the silence around them. He was looking at the garden, melancholy written all over his traits, their hands still holding each other. “ **This garden has so much of us written all over it. This is where I promised you to always put your happiness before everything else, when we were so young. We were lying on the grass, stargazing, and I remember feeling like if this could be the rest of my life I would be more than contented. This was what I wanted, Harry, you and me forever.** ”, Louis recalled, emotion strangling his words, his eyes starting to release small tears. Harry squeezed his hand harder in his but didn't speak.

 

“ **I'm so sorry I failed you, love.** ”, Louis wasn't feeling angry anymore, he was devastated by the ampler of all the what-ifs spinning around in his mind. It was driving him crazy.

 

“ **Don't be.** ”, Harry replied, his voice low and syrupy. “ **Our relationship becoming what it was lately made you find your voice, you've been writing amazing songs, finding something to sing about, but it took my own voice away and I can't stay with you and not be able to sing. I'd be driving myself crazy. Writing has always been my way of being sane. I haven't been able to write for months, now, and I can't stay like this. I love you, of course I do, but it is not enough anymore. You've been the best thing that ever happened to me, Lou, it can't go on forever this way. You'll find happiness again, you deserve it.** ”, each word felt like a knife being struck in Louis' heart and soul, hurting more and more each time, leaving him crying silently. He squeezed Harry's hand tighter, still holding onto the last string of hope that was tying them together because, in a few seconds, he would have to cut it, to let go of the last eight years of their lives.

 

Louis kissed their intertwined hands and stood up, ready to admit that it was over. He bent over and kissed Harry's head, tenderness and affection present in the touch. Harry closed his eyes, wiped his nose with the arm of his sweatshirt.

 

“ **I'm always gonna be yours, you know that, right?** ”, Louis whispered, taking a step back. Harry was sat on the floor, his head hung low, Louis was standing, their hands still connected and the air between them held all the remaining of their relationship, the pieces of their hearts, the shreds of hope, the words still left unsaid. The air was thick and light at the same time. Louis took another step backwards, their fingers still touching, Harry still not watching Louis walk away from him.

 

“ **Why didn't you ever marry me, then?** ”, it was so low Louis hesitated a few seconds, not sure he heard correctly. It took the air out of his lungs. He felt like he had been punched in the guts. Harry turned to look at him, pain bigger in his eyes than it was before. Louis was torn apart, now, nothing left of him anymore. Their eyes were talking and Louis wasn't sure what Harry could read in his gaze so he decided to finally say it. To stop the guessing, the doubts. He walked back to Harry, knelt before him, between his legs, he held his hands in his, their gazes glued together.

 

“ **Harry...** ”, he started and he saw the boy's eyes start to water. “ **I never asked you because I always considered you deserved better than just a boy who couldn't tell the world about you. Who couldn't admit he was gay. I always thought that one day I'll find the courage to do it and I would ask you to marry me then. I'm not better than someone else, Haz. I wanted to be the best version of meself before marrying you.** ”, Louis admitted, his voice breaking almost on every word. Harry was crying silently but didn't look away.

 

“ **You would have been enough.** ”, Harry whispered, tears rolling down his face. Louis nodded. He cupped Harry's face, a new fire igniting inside their stomachs at the touch, it felt so much more intimate than they had been in weeks. Louis hunched closer, the taste of the other on their tongues now.

 

“ **Deep inside your heart, right now, is there a doubt or a certitude? Deep in yourself, did you ever doubt us before, do you doubt us right now?** ”, Louis murmured, between the inches separating him from the other's lips. It would be so simple to kiss him right now. Harry put his forehead against Louis', building back the bubble they used to have before.

 

“ **I don't doubt us, Lou. But it's over.** ”, Harry answered in a whisper. Louis gave up on all the restrain he had until now and kissed Harry slowly, tenderly, putting everything he was feeling in this kiss. It wasn't heated, nor sexual, it was everything they had wanted to say, but couldn't, it was the maybe they wished they could hang on to, it was the small possibility of them getting back together one day. When he felt Harry's tongue against his, Louis made a promise to himself: one day they would be back here, kissing, and that time they would be getting married. No more fear, no more doubt, no more hesitation. One day. He kissed Harry's lips one last time and, this time, walked away for good. They looked at each other until Louis walked back in the house. Harry stayed sat on the grass. Louis found Anne in the kitchen. She looked at him, a sad smile on her face.

 

“ **I would ask but...** ”, she started. He hugged her tightly, silent sobs shaking him. She massaged his neck , tenderly.

 

“ **He's gonna be ok.** ”, he found the strength to say. Anne looked at him, worry furrowing her brows in a fine line.

 

“ **Are you?** ”, she asked. Louis sighed, kissed her cheek and stepped back.

 

“ **I'll find a way.** ”, he said and the rest of the sentence he kept to himself: “ _I'll find a way back to us_ ”, is what he was thinking. They smiled at each other one last time and Louis closed the wooden door behind him. He sat in his car, started it and drove away, far enough to not be visible, then he parked on the side of the road and let go of the tears and sobs he had kept locked for so long. He punched the steering wheel, screaming. He had put a brave face on but his life was falling apart right now. The wound was so painful he never thought he could recover from it.

 

The only thing that kept him from crumbling apart was this small part of him, this molecule, that was repeating 'one day'. They had already found their way to each other, they would find it back, he was sure of it. He wiped his face clean with the arm of his sweatshirt and drove away, stronger than he had been before.

 

Harry was his and he was Harry's, as simple as that.

 

He'll come back home.

 

_Sweet creature, sweet creature_   
_Wherever I go, you bring me home_   
_Sweet creature, sweet creature_   
_When I run out of road, you bring me home_

 


	11. 10.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so late and I'm so so sorry !!
> 
> Life has been crazy lately and I haven't find the time to write or even post a chapter. Today I'll try my best to finish this story so I'd be able to post it entirely by the end of the week :)
> 
> I hope you're all doing great and that you'll enjoy this new chapter :D <3

Anne was cooking their lunch when Harry came back inside, looking sad, tortured even. She hesitated to speak but he walked over to her, hugging her tight, sighing deeply only once. She welcomed the touch, holding onto him, as she would do every time he needed her to. He was her baby. Anne knew he was an adult now, but, in her heart, he would always be her baby, her youngest, the last baby of hers she held in her arms, she breastfed, she cuddled and consoled.

 

“ **He's gone.** ”, Harry whispered before bursting into tears. Anne lulled him slowly, her small hand caressing his messy hair.

 

“ **Yes, he's gone for now. You can always find your way back to him, Harry. He belongs with you as much as you belong with him.** ”, she murmured a couple of minutes later, once her son was calmer, his sobs having quieted down enough for him to speak. He looked at her, puzzled.

 

“ **We're not...** ”, he began, but the strength to say it wasn't quite there yet, the sentence left half-spoken. Anne understood.

 

“ **I know.** ”, and the look on her face was saying the same: she knew it all, even what he wasn't saying, what Louis hadn't told when he had walked out mere hours ago. She knew what they didn't have the courage to even formulate: they were willing to leave it to fate to find each other again. One day.

 

“ **Lunch is almost ready.** ”, she announced making Harry grimace. He put a hand on his stomach immediately.

 

“ **I'm not sure I can eat anything right now.** ”, Harry admitted.

Anne watched him walk away, a sad look in her eyes, following his silhouette to the staircase. She forced her attention back on her frying pan, trying to make the uncomfortable, tight feeling go away. She could help her son feel better only if she was feeling good herself. Losing Louis was hard for Anne too. He had been her son, for eight years. With the thoughts, Anne sighed, her heart heavy in her chest. She was putting her toast on a plate when she heard Harry come back downstairs. He had changed clothes for working out ones, his hair up in a small bun to keep the loose strands from falling into his eyes while running.

 

“ **Oh, Haz..** ”, Anne said. She knew that running wasn't about running anymore. It had been Harry's way of coping for months. She has seen him transform into someone else when he had prepared to go for a run. He had worn his heart on his sleeve each time before going, to cleanse his heart, his head and soul. It was about forgetting everything, putting everything aside to finally find himself back. To learn how to feel again without breaking. 

 

She had hoped for a quiet lunch together, to start the healing process together.

 

“ **I have to...** ”, Harry stopped, looked around, all the memories too vivid in his mind to leave him in peace. “ **Do something. I'll be back in a hour or two.** ”, he whispered then vanished.

 

Harry loved his mom with every bit of his soul but he couldn't face her right now. Louis had kissed him and Harry had kissed him back. It had been the smallest touch, the first one in weeks, but it made everything so unsure and so sure at the same time.

It made Harry doubt his decision and, yet, made it so sure that they'd find a way back. It would be a lie to say Harry didn't know it deep in his heart. He knew it, wanted it, wished for it, hoped for it, even prayed for it. Louis was the only one, he was it for Harry.

 

As soon as his feet touched the grass, Harry started to run, fast and steady with music drowning his thoughts and doubts in a big sea of notes and voices that weren't his or Louis' for once. He let his legs decide the roads he was taking, the paths he took to finally end up, out of breath, in the big field on top of the hill. He hated his subconscious. Harry swore out loud, in the empty space, no witness to his disarray.

Harry turned on himself, looking around, recognizing everything a bit too much, every tree, every bush far too familiar to him. He walked up the hill and stopped in front of the same trunk as a few days ago. The engraving was still there, burning bright like it was lit up. Harry let his fingers touch it, tenderly, with reverence and respect. It was soft under his fingertips, time had softened up the raw edges the knife had left behind. Harry still remembered how he felt when Louis had engraved it, one afternoon, sun kissing their skins, their hearts pounding with so much love it was nearly impossible to breathe, their feelings taking all the space in their chests. Once Louis had been done with it, they had kissed endlessly, leaning against the same trunk where their love was now eternal.

 

Harry smiled timidly at the thought. It was still painful but reassuring in a way. This would be there forever, even if they couldn't find a way back. It was like a bread crumb for them to follow when they lost the road back home.

 

Harry fished for his phone and selected Louis' new song, put it on repeat and put it back in his pocket. Louis' voice was calming, claiming for the world to hear that he was missing Harry and the latter knew it was the truth. He then put his hand in the other pocket, closing his fingers on the little object, his heart beating faster at the thought of what he was about to do.

 

He stepped closer to the trunk, eyes filled with joy and mischief.

 

“ **Sorry.** ”, he whispered as he caressed the tree slowly, already asking it for forgiveness. It was raining again, water rolling down Harry's face and body but he didn't mind. Actually, he didn't even notice it. His thoughts were haunted by Louis, everything about Louis and what they could have been. All the what ifs were floating around in front of his eyes, keeping him from seeing and feeling the rain on his face. His hand started moving with precaution, very precisely, concentration present in every move, every inch of the creation forming under his fingertips. 

 

Once he was done, Harry took a step back, pride irradiating from every pore of his face, his eyes full of contentment. He blew on it to take every crumb away and finally admire his masterpiece.

 

There, next to the first engraving, was a second one, looking new and fresh.

 

_I promise_ , is what it read.

 

Harry left the field with his heart full of hope and joy because, yes, he did promise to himself to let the chance come to them if it was meant to. He wouldn't search for it, nor make it happen himself, but if the chance was given to them, he wouldn't let it go to waste, he promised it to himself and Louis, on the trunk of their tree, for them to see.

 

He jogged back home, kissed his mom's cheek and finally smiled. Harry wasn't broken, he knew that now, he was simply unstable, wobbly, but he will find the strength to go on and the courage to move on. Louis would always be there, in his heart and thoughts.

 

He would always be in love with him.

 

Harry just needed to face it. Admit it. Feel it inside his bones and let it be a part of him, as it was meant to be.

 

 

**[...]**

 

 

Harry was sat at the kitchen isle in his New York's apartment. He was lost in his thoughts, his gaze wandering on the city's skyline, a bowl of oatmeal in front of him, his cup of tea on the side and his phone resting on the counter top, dark screen and silent. Harry was trying to find traces of spring in the air, on the trees, maybe find some flowers somewhere. Four months had gone by since he had stood in the field, in front of the sacred trunk where he left his last hope engraved in. Christmas had been a tough time, as it was their first Christmas separated. Harry had thought about calling Louis, asking him to drop by on Christmas Day, to celebrate Louis' birthday, maybe even give him a kiss as a gift. But he had not called. He had simply sat in front of the fireplace, wishing they could be together. On New Year's Eve he had flown back to New York. He hadn't had it in him to stay in England where everything had reminded him of Louis and of what they had had.

 

Louis was and will, always, be in everything Harry's life consisted of.

 

England was the crib where their love had begun, where it had grown up and had become the cement of their relationship. It was in its fields and hills that they had started dreaming and hoping. England was the core of their love and Harry couldn't find the strength to stay there any longer. So, he had kissed his mom tenderly and had flown back to New York. He had thought about going back to Los Angeles, but the house there had always been the one he had thought about sharing with Louis, where they would bring up their own family. He couldn't go back there, with his empty heart and hands, tearing apart all his hopes and dreams. It was a thing to admit they weren't a couple anymore, but it was something else to destroy everything that had held his life together for a number of years.

 

Louis and him had talked about marriage, children, growing old and gray together. They envisioned it. It had been real, for them at least, and going back to Los Angeles after that would have meant admitting they had been deluded all this time. It's not because nobody else could see it that it wasn't true. Harry had felt married to Louis since the beginning. This house was supposed to hold their love in it, he couldn't go back there alone.

 

So Harry chose New York. This apartment where they had made love for the last time, it was hurtful, but less hurtful than killing their dreams.

 

Now spring was around the corner. Four months had waltzed by. Harry drank a gulp of tea, melancholy present in his eyes. He had never thought he could do it, go on without Louis. But, he had made it. He had played a few shows, had written some new songs, had enjoyed life on his own.

 

He had lived. He had breathed.

 

Louis had been in everything he had done, yes, and he would always be, but it hadn't felt like suffocating from missing him. Harry had feared he'd fall apart from the pain but this pain had made him stronger as cliché as that might sound. He was on his own but he wasn't alone. Louis was here, always here.

 

Those months had seemed like the worst thing that could have happened between him and Louis, but, in the end, maybe it had been a good thing. They had found what they had lost for months: a trust and a dialog. They finally had reconnected.

 

Harry smiled at this thought. His phone beeped at the same time, indicating a new text from Louis. Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling.

 

“ _From : Lou_.

 

_Message : Saw you are coming too tonight. Can't wait._ ”

 

Harry felt his heart beat a little faster, anticipation dawning on his body. This evening was a big night in the music industry and they had been both invited to the big gala held in New York. Harry had hesitated to go but Jo had been intransigent: he had to go and show his face again. It would be the first time facing each other since the day they had ended their relationshipofficially and for once and all.

 

They had reconnected, yes, but only through texts and calls for now. They had never been in the other's presence in those four months. Harry felt like he was going to prom with his high-school sweetheart for the first time. His fingers were almost trembling when he answered.

 

“ _To : Lou_.

 

_Message : So nervous to see you._ ”

 

Louis' answer came a few seconds later.

 

“ _From : Lou_.

 

_Message : Don't be, it's just me, Haz._ ”

 

He then sent a winking face and Harry couldn't help but feel like they were flirting again, like they had done when they had been sixteen and eighteen. It felt like it, made him feel the same nervousness and joy at the idea of finding the perfect outfit for the occasion. He wanted to surprise Louis, amaze him a little, too. He wanted Louis to find him the most gorgeous person in the room but he also wanted him to know that he had done it only for Louis himself and nobody else.

 

It had been four months but Harry had never felt like he was single, had never felt the need to be with someone else. To please anybody else. He had never felt attracted to anyone else, no woman nor man.

 

Tonight he wanted to feel beautiful in Louis' eyes. Wanted to feel like he was still the one.

 

Harry had never felt strong enough to ask Louis if he had moved on, if he had met someone or had been going out with a particular person. He took his phone and dialed the first number in the list of the most recent calls.

 

“ **Hello?** ”, Jo asked, sounding like she had just woken up.

 

“ **Did I wake you up?** ”, Harry asked, shoving spoonfuls of oatmeal in his mouth between words. Jo yawned and Harry laughed at the sound.

 

“ **Harry, darling, it is actually 7:00am on a Saturday so, yes, you woke me up. What do you need?** ”, she spoke, exasperated, but her voice was too soft to really feel like she was scolding him. Harry scratched an imaginary spot on the kitchen isle before talking again.

 

“ **I want to look particularly nice tonight.** ”, he said and the silence that followed bore more meaning that any words could. Jo cleared her throat a couple of times.

 

“ **Okay. I won't ask, but okay.** ”, she finally said, a smile audible in the way she formed her words, trying to keep her laugh at bay. Harry felt his cheeks turn red, an embarrassed smile drawing itself slowly on his lips.

 

“ **Thank you, Jo.** ”

 

“ **No problem, dear.** ”, he hung up, feeling a wave of excitement coming up from his feet along his spine, as if electricity was emitting from the ground and travelling all the way to his head.

 

The rest of the day went by in a blur of fittings, phone calls and arrangements concerning the evening. Jo had come to Harry's apartment around 11:00am, her arms full of clothes for Harry to try on. From leather pants to floral suits, he had tried it all, trying to feel sexy and comfortable. He wanted to look perfect but also to feel like he was still him underneath all the layers. He needed Louis to see he had changed in those few months but that he was still the boy he had fallen in love with years ago.

 

Once he had chosen his outfit, he had eaten a salad and drank a green juice to ' nourish his body' as he said to Jo as she had just rolled her eyes at him. When they were supposed to finally go, Harry was petrified. He was looking at himself in the mirror, his hair swept back with loose strands falling around his eyes, his shirt whiter than white, his shoes shining,

 

“ **Harry?** ”, Jo asked, worried at the look on the man's face. He looked lost and troubled. He looked at her but didn't say anything for a minute, opening his mouth but no words came out.

 

“ **Harry?** ”, Jo asked again, taking a step towards him, facing his image in the mirror with him. He looked dashing, gorgeous, breathtaking. She probably couldn't find any reason for Harry to seem so upset. He finally spoke. 

 

“ **There's something missing.** ”, he murmured, his eyes examining everything from his necklace to his shoes.

 

He had forgotten something, he was certain of it and he couldn't step out of his apartment without finding what it was. It took them fifteen minutes until Harry finally found it. He had run to his bedroom and come back, a big smile on his face. Jo had raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Harry had smiled at her, showing her the ring he was putting on his ring finger: his rose ring. She didn't know where he had gotten it but she knew it held a particular meaning to Harry.

He looked at the ring, touched it a couple of times and finally agreed to go. The taxi ride was silent, neither of them talking, Jo typing about on her phone and Harry admiring the city around them. The excitement was present in his stomach, tying it up. He hadn't called Louis all day even if the idea had sneaked to his mind a lot of times. It would have spoiled the waiting process. Harry felt it would have been bad luck for them, as it is for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. It was stupid because they weren't getting married, he knew that, but Harry couldn't help his mind from working this way.

 

“ **We're here. Are you ready?** ”, Jo asked and Harry turned to her, a hesitant smile on his face but a spark of courage in his eyes. He nodded so she opened the taxi door, letting them out. All the paparazzi were stood there, flashes all around. Harry smiled, posed and answered a few questions he heard, happy to finally be here, excited and scared at the same time. He looked around but couldn't find Louis anywhere. Maybe he wasn't coming after all, Harry thought with disappointment sparking in his guts.

 

He walked inside the building, Jo long gone. Harry knew it all, he had been doing for years, posing for the cameras, pretending he wasn't blinded by the flashes, looking self-assured, walking like there wasn't any knot in the pit of his stomach. It was routine to him now and, yet, when he approached the table he was seated at, his hands were trembling a little. He put the left one in his pocket while he was breathing deeply. Jo was already sat and she waved at him as soon as she saw him. He smiled and sighed when he finally sat down.

 

“ **Everything alright?** ”, Jo whispered to him, bending to be heard over the noise around them. Harry looked around, not searching for Louis, but deeply hoping he would catch sight of him, out of the blue, to finally see him again, to confirm he would be here tonight. It was a stress Harry didn't think he would be feeling right now. He didn't care about the evening in itself, he was obsessed with the idea of facing Louis again. It was really strange. They weren't a couple anymore, there was no doubt about it, but there was something more, a spark, a thread tying them back to each other. Harry was on the edge, his leg marking the rhythm of his heartbeat and Jo noticed it. She put her hand on his knee and tried to stop it from jumping.

 

“ **Harry, are you feeling alright?** ”, she asked again. He turned to her, his eyes wide and glistening from excitement. He smiled at her tenderly, put his hand over hers and squeezed it.

 

“ **Yeah.** ”, Harry said. He noticed that he was short of breath and guessed that his cheeks must have turned red but he didn't care much about it.

 

“ **Okay.** ”, Jo answered. She sat straighter as other guests started to arrive and sat at the table. Harry engaged in the conversation, feeling lighter than he had felt in months. It was like he had wings on his back. Nothing mattered, nothing could take away the happiness that was blooming inside him in this moment. It was odd, for him to feel this elevated by just the mere thought of seeing Louis again, especially in the circumstances they'd been wrapped in for months now _._

 

Harry chatted the first part of the evening away. The evening was supposed to have some awards handed out with some live performances with good food and a lot of alcohol of which Harry was staying away from. His head was cloudy enough without drinking on top of it. He needed to be fully capable of thinking straight in case he saw Louis. He needed to not want to kiss him any more than he already did.

 

At some point, Jo stood up and came behind Harry, a hand on his shoulder, cutting him from his conversation.

 

“ **You're expected backstage, love. You're supposed to hand out an award, remember?** ”, she whispered.

 

Harry looked at her and, the truth was, he didn't remember. He wasn't even sure he had known about it. Maybe she had told him in the car but he hadn't listened nor heard. He smiled and excused himself before walking backstage. Harry was so lost in his thought he almost tripped over his own feet two times in front of all the guests. An assistant met him backstage and explained to him what he was supposed to do and gave him the cards with the text he was supposed to read. She showed him a little corridor for him to stand in and wait for his name to be called. He nodded, not sure he got it all right, but he'll make it work, one way or another.

 

Harry stood in the corridor, his back against the wall, reading his cards when he felt a wave of electricity shake his whole body. He looked up only to be met by beautiful blue eyes. Louis was there, just there, at an arm's length. He was standing in front of Harry, on the other side of the wall. There were only meters between them. Louis was smiling shyly at him, looking at him from underneath his lashes and Harry could swear he didn't know how to breathe anymore. His cards were crippling in his now fisted hand.

 

Harry wanted his first words to Louis, face to face, to be the best ones, the perfect ones. He wanted to convey everything he was feeling. He opened his mouth a first time, closed it and did the same three or four times. Harry couldn't find the words, didn't have any idea what he wanted to say. Louis smiled at him, a laugh present in his blue orbs. He was looking at Harry with a new fire, with a flame they both had forgotten about along the way. The assistant who spoke to Harry walked between them and startled Harry back to reality. They were in the corridor, at an event, surrounded by artists, journalists and photographers. They could talk to each other, but they couldn't say what they wanted to say. What they needed to say. Anybody could hear their words and twist them, publish them for money. It finally came back to him, the reality: he still wasn't free.

 

But he could look at Louis, watch him from afar. And Louis was doing the same. There was only silence between them and, yet, they were exchanging a lot with their eyes. Harry was breathing quicker now, the air trying to find a way in his full chest. The exact same sentiment was deploying inside them in this moment, feelings were claiming back the place they had always belonged to and neither one of them was ready to stop them. They were flooded by a mix of lust, want, love, need. Waves after waves left them breathless and in want for more. Something in Louis' eyes changed and Harry felt warmer, hot even. It was like he could feel Louis' fingers against his skin. He could swear he was feeling them caress his skin, along his back, on his neck, his tummy. Louis was looking at him with so much want in his eyes, Harry could burst from emotion. He was now near-gasping, in the middle of this corridor, only looking at a man who wasn't his boyfriend anymore. Harry was feeling more connected to Louis now than he had ever felt before. They were closer now without having been close for months, what a paradox.

 

“ **Two minutes, Harry.** ”, screamed the assistant from the end of the corridor and Harry did find the strength to look away from Louis to look at her and nod, to show he heard her. He sighed, taking in the few seconds of relief away from Louis' gaze. He hoped he wasn't imagining it all, that it wasn't in his head. He needed it to be real. More real than ever before. Harry wanted to put out his hand and grab at Louis. Hold his hand, his arm, his shoulder. Just touch him. He was craving Louis' touch. Maybe he was still in love with him. Maybe he was even more in love with Louis now.

 

It had been a thought for weeks now: being away from Louis, not being a couple anymore, made them talk more, reconnect in a new way and they finally had to let go of the idea they had of each other. They had to learn to know the people they were now. They still had history together, and it was their strength, but it couldn't only be that. They had grown up, had evolved and they had to accept it. To learn from it. Letting go of this fantasy of each other had been the hardest thing they had ever done but maybe even the best one too. It was like discovering someone new they already knew. It was the best feeling in the world for them right now.

 

Harry turned his head back to Louis and a smile spread itself onto his lips because he knew what the look Louis was giving him meant: lust. He was observing how Harry was dressed and desire was burning in his eyes, creating chills down Harry's spine. Louis' eyes watched Harry's thighs in his red and white trousers, moved upwards to Harry's crotch, and then to his open shirt showing the upper part of Harry's chest. Louis finally looked back to his eyes, and they talked without any words. They were both breathing heavily now as if they had been snogging for minutes. They hadn't. They hadn't even touched each other. Harry put a hand in his hair, messing with what Max, his hairdresser for the night, had spent hours creating. He didn't care. Couldn't care less.

 

Harry licked his lips and he knew they must look red and puffy right now. He felt some odd pride in it, because it was like Louis had kissed him. He wanted it so much now. He opened his mouth but no words came out, only his ragged breathing echoing Louis' one. They were out of breath, panting, feeling hot and full of desire. Louis stood with his feet wider than his hips, looking like he was inviting Harry to come stand between his legs and, even if he was dying to do it, Harry knew he couldn't. Shouldn't. His eyes still glued to Louis', Harry undid one button of his shirt, opening it even more. Thunder was now rumbling in Louis' eyes and Harry's stomach. They were flirting, saying so many things words couldn't express properly. They had created their own language. They were speaking it fluently without anyone understanding what their bodies and eyes were saying. Time had stopped, people didn't exist anymore. They were alone, wanting each other, needing each other.

 

Harry gasped when Louis let his hands caress his own thighs, quickly, only for Harry to notice. Harry knocked against the wall behind him with his left fist. He couldn't contain it anymore. He had to walk away, or Louis had to, or else he would explode and kiss him against this wall like their lives were depending on it. To put his body against Louis', smell him, feel him underneath him. His mouth started to water only thinking about it.

 

Harry had to get a grip before he'd have a very awkward erection to explain, seconds before going on stage to hand an award to someone. He had to calm down. Louis smiled at him, softly this time, calmer. It wasn't lust anymore, it was a soft and warm feeling. Something that looked like love, maybe. Harry smiled too. Trying to convey all the turmoil happening inside of him. They had been face-to-face for a few minutes and so much had happened, had been felt, had been said.

 

“ **Harry.** ”, Claire, the assistant, called him and he knew it was goodbye for now. Louis waved at him and Harry mirrored it while walking away. Once he reached the end of the corridor, Harry looked back but Louis was gone, as if it had all been a dream.

 

“ **You look a mess.** ”, Claire scolded him with no heat to her words.

 

Harry smiled and shrugged. He knew his hair was not holding its shape any more, his shirt was more open than was decent and his lips were red and puffy. He looked like he had just snogged or fucked someone and he was pleased. She shook her head slightly and showed him the way. He heard his name and walked on stage. His speech went smoothly, he smiled like Louis was watching him from one of the tables and he knew he was, somewhere. Harry thanked Claire and walked back to his chair. Jo furrowed her eyebrows once he was sat next to her.

 

“ **What happened to you?** ”, she asked in a whisper and Harry just smiled. Jo sighed with a smile and the conversation started again. Harry was in the middle of a story when his heart stopped and his eyes opened wide. He was left open-mouthed, breathless and silent.

 

“ **Harry?** ”, John, one of the guests, asked. Harry couldn't look at him, couldn't take his gaze away from the stage, his heart beating like crazy against his ribcage. He was on the verge of fainting. He couldn't breathe, couldn't stop his hands from clasping on his trousers. Harry needed the time to go faster now. For those seconds to just pass quickly and end his agony. The same sentence was turning inside his mind, just as he heard it.

 

“ **Next on stage, Louis Tomlinson, from One Direction, with his new single.** ”

 

Louis was about to come on stage and sing in front of them, in front of Harry.

 

Jo must have sensed Harry's disarray, she continued the conversation, narrating the end of the story, laughing louder than she normally would have. Harry tried to fight it but he couldn't look away, his eyes were glued on the stage. The lights dimmed and Harry's breath got caught in his throat that felt tighter suddenly. He couldn't swallow, nor speak. He could only watch the stage, waiting for Louis to appear up there and finally sing. What was he about to perform?

 

Jo turned to the stage but she took Harry's hand in hers. He held on to her as if his life was depending on her touch. He needed her to stay grounded.

 

A light appeared on stage and Louis' silhouette was finally visible. He seemed small, lost and unsure until he looked up and, on his face, something fierce was there. Louis was standing on stage with something to say, something to tell and a heart burning to say it. He was scared, he was impatient. Louis couldn't see him, but he knew he had Harry's gaze on him which gave him all the strength he needed. He was strong, bright, bold and proud. Harry couldn't love any more than he did in this moment. He simply hoped no one was watching him because love was shining from every pore of his body, he was aware of that but he couldn't help it. Harry started to play with his rose ring, this ring he had added in extremis earlier in the evening. The ring he had put on his ring finger with a purpose.

 

Everything Louis was singing hit home within Harry. He had spent so much time looking at his own chains, he had not noticed that Louis was also a prisoner of their world and he was now breaking free claiming to the world that he was like everyone else. Harry wasn't sure if he was talking about being famous or being gay but, whatever it was, he was seeing Louis break free in front of him and he couldn't be more proud of Louis.

 

_Every heart breaks the same_   
_Every tear leaves a stain_   
_Can't I just be the same?_   
_Every heart breaks the same_   
_Every tear leaves a stain_   
_Let me be the same_

 

Harry felt a single tear roll down his cheek but he didn't wipe it away because he understood this song on a level that was so intimate, personal, that his heart was screaming the lyrics alongside Louis. They had been trapped in a world they got accustomed to, they called home for years, but, now, taking a step back they could only see it as the cage it had been. A golden cage, but still a cage. They had been imprisoned by the norms of the society and the music business. They had accepted it without questioning it, too happy to have the opportunity to sing their songs and perform in front of people who had loved them. Now it had went on for years and they weren't deluded teenagers. Their love had felt like freedom at the time, staying together against all odds, when their staff had kept them from being together. Harry had always felt like their love was a get-away, their way of coping with everything. Their way to stay sane. It had been what had kept them alive and fighting. Had they really been fighting? He wasn't sure about it anymore. They had accepted it. They stayed away from the media, hid their relationship from the world. For eight years they had simply thought it would be for the best because that was what they had been fed.

He exhaled loudly as Louis kept singing. Some knots were coming undone inside of them, they were finally letting go of all their chains. They could have done that a long time ago but, maybe they hadn't been strong enough, or maybe they didn't have a good enough reason to do so.

 

Now they had nothing to prove, nothing to waste, except their freedom.

 

Louis sang his last words: “ _If you only knew._ ”, and the whole room stood up and clapped, cheering him on. Harry wasn't sure if they really understood what Louis was saying, what they had finally understood tonight.

 

They were done with everything that wasn't making them happy. Louis walked off the stage, finally giving Harry space to breathe normally again. The rest of the night was a blur to Harry, he couldn't properly even remember what had happened after the performance. Jo must have taken him home because he was now spread on his bed, mind empty and heart full.

 

He fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Louis.

 

“ _To : Lou_.

 

_Message : I know._ “

 

It took a couple of minutes for Louis to answer and a smile spread onto Harry's lips.

 

“ _From : Lou_.

 

_Message : You are the only one who could know_.”.

 

Attached to that message was a photo. Harry looked at it for a while, undecided of what to say, what to think. It made everything different, made the evening appear in a new lighting, creating more depths to what had happened. It was a picture of Louis, going on stage, pointing to a little pin on his jacket. There, against the dark fabric of the collar was a pride flag. It was small but colorful. Louis had gone on stage with a pride flag on his jacket to sing a song being accepted as he was. Not pretending anymore. Harry didn't answer, too dizzy from the possibilities coming to life in his mind. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the memory of Louis singing to him, to the whole world about being in love with man.

 

_It's always have and never hold_   
_You've begun to feel like home yeah_   
_What's mine is yours to leave or take_   
_What's mine is yours to make your own_

 


	12. 11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooo.... Yesterday I was writing one of the last chapters and my computer froze, it then started again but my file was corrupted and I can't open it again... I was almost crying, but luckily I had all the previou chapters in another file, I only lost the last three pages that I've been re-writting since yesterday :) 
> 
> This chapter has been so hard to write for me because one of the scenes was in one of my dreams, and I didn't know if I could do it justice with words. 
> 
> Disclaimer :there is a sex scene in this chapter, so if you're not comfortable, don't read it. 
> 
> I hope you like this one, and, please, leave me some comments :) 
> 
> The end is near. There will be two more chapters and an epilogue until the end. 
> 
> Enjoy xo <3

Harry looked at Louis, sat in front of him, on his couch, a cup of tea nestled between his two hands, a little bit of steam rising in the air, the sun beaming in the living room from the big windows overlooking Central Park. It felt like a routine, a normality. Like it could happen every day: Harry and Louis drinking tea on the couch, spending time with each other. It felt like Harry hadn't had his heart broken.

It was like erasing all the months and years of suffering. Louis was healing Harry's wounds simply by being here. Harry breathed profoundly in, Louis' smell floating around in the room. He closed his eyes and tried to picture it: every day, here, or anywhere else, with Louis. Them, together, as a couple. Could it happen? Could it be enough?

 

“ **You're quiet.** ”, Louis noted, Harry opened his eyes again to dive into his blue gaze, burning through him. Louis looking at him took all the confidence he had away from Harry.

 

Being face to face with Louis, in a crowded room, was easy, actually, compared to being alone with him inside his own apartment. Being with Louis knowing they couldn't really talk and say what they wanted to say was easy. Now, just the two of them, they could say it all, explain it, confess it, admit it. Harry could so easily tell Louis that he loved him. It wouldn't be a lie, wouldn't be too hard.

 

The thing was, Harry didn't know if he could do it again. Wasn't sure that he had it still in him to give his all to Louis. Once burned, twice shy, as the saying goes.

 

He wasn't bleeding anymore, but, underneath his fingertips he could still feel the scars. Scattered all over his skin, alongside his tattoos. His whole body was covered with his story with Louis, the good and the bad, the best and the worst.

 

Harry was sat in the armchair, only meters away from Louis, and, yet, he felt his warmth, his gaze on him, his smell. He swore he could taste it on his tongue. He was taking his breath away by simply existing.

 

“ **I don't know what to say.** ”, Harry admitted, after a few minutes of silence.

 

Louis looked at him, not talking and, maybe, it would be better if he could say what he was feeling because all the emotions floating in his eyes were too much for Harry. He could sense it all, the love, the hope, the sadness, the hurt, the confidence, the brokenness, the shyness, the lust, the bleeding. Everything was written in Louis' irises and it was writing itself into Harry's heart. It was like being one again, only meters away. Distance was nothing anymore. They could be thousands of kilometers away and still be one. Their hearts beating in unison. They were meant to be, Harry knew that. Nonetheless, they had had their chances, they had had their turn, and they had lost it.

 

“ **I don't know. Just talk to me, Haz.** ”, Louis said, all the pressure in those few words.

 

Harry turned his head to look away, searching through the window his saving grace. Something to help him. A few days ago, at the gala, he was burning with desire and, if he had had to make a decision at that moment, it would have been natural to take Louis back, because lust had clouded his head. Yes, he did want Louis, he was dying to be touched and kissed by him. But now, head clearer, it was different because he could still feel the hurt and emptiness he had felt for months. He remembered it. He couldn't do it again.

 

“ **I...** ”, Harry paused, swallowing down the knot in his throat. “ **I don't know.** ”, he whispered but it hit Louis as hard as it would have if he had screamed it.

 

Louis put his steaming cup down on the coffee table, hands starting to tremble from the emotion that was shaking him to the core. He hesitated, unsure of what to do next. He could walk away, Harry wouldn't be mad at him, he could run away now and pretend this visit never happened. He could but, actually, no, he couldn't. He didn't have the strength to walk away from Harry. Not now. The chance he had been praying for was now, in this very second everything was holding onto the smallest thread possible. The chance could break in pieces. Louis wanted to be here, wanted to stay. Stay and fight for what they could have. For this certainty in his heart that Harry was the love of his life, his man. He was his past, present and future. He was the sense of everything.

 

He was his king, lover, best friend, confidant. He was his knight. He was his world.

 

Louis slowly stood up, moving as though Harry could fly away if he was too abrupt. He walked to Harry and knelt in front of him, his hands on Harry's thighs. Harry closed his eyes again, breathing deeply and steadily. Louis' hands created electricity between their two bodies. It was like they were finally being on the same wavelength, nurturing on the other's presence.

 

“ **Harry, love, talk to me.** ”, Louis whispered, caressing the fabric underneath his fingers. He wished it'd be only skin under his palms, but it wasn't. There was still a wall between them, Harry had his guard up and Louis could understand why.

 

Harry didn't say anything, instead he put his hands on Louis', squeezing them tenderly. It was enough for Louis. They were holding onto each other, not letting the doubts create a gap between them. There was still something to save.

 

“ **It's just me, baby.** ”, Louis murmured again, his voice trembling. Harry caressed the back of Louis' hands with his thumbs, still silent and closed eyes. Louis wished he knew what to do or what to say to prove he really wanted them to get back together but he felt like any word choice would be wrong. Like it would blow it all up. Everything around them and inside them was so fragile right now, frail and unsure. He couldn't crash it with his impatience.

 

“ **I can't...** ”, Harry started to say but he stopped when his voice broke. Louis put his face between Harry's thighs, Harry's hands still holding onto his. It was intimate, it was them. “ **I can't fall in love with you again, Louis.** ”, Harry conceded in a whisper, breaking Louis' heart.

 

Louis whimpered, the pain too much to hold in. He put his hands on Harry's back, holding tightly onto his love. Harry put his hands in Louis' hair, massaging his scalp. He opened his eyes and watched Louis, knelt on the floor, his face hidden in his lap. Harry loved him so much, it was all he did, love him. There were so many questions haunting his mind in this moment because he knew how it felt to lose Louis and lose himself at the same time and he couldn't do it anymore.

 

He would break apart, he knew it.

 

“ **You're still in love with me.** ”, Louis' answer, muffled by the fact that his face was in Harry's lap, floated around in the room, turning in the air, making Harry feel dizzy with the truth it beheld.

 

“ **Yes.** ”, he croaked, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Harry let one of his hands down Louis' head to caress the nape of his neck. He couldn't help it, he needed to touch him, feel his skin underneath his fingertips. He could feel Louis' warm breath through the fabric of his jeans, creating goosebumps all over his body, a shiver shaking him from head to toe. 

 

“ **Me too.** ”, Louis said. His hands were massaging Harry's back, his love handles, his sides. He felt frantic to touch him all over, driven by the love and the lust battling inside his stomach. Harry let his right hand inside Louis' collar, touching his bare back, creating a new sense of intimacy. They were silent now, only their breaths echoing in the room, the sun encircling them in its halo. It was like the skies were letting them know they were allowed to fall for each other again.

 

“ **I can't lose you again, Louis.** ”, Harry admitted, pain audible in the way he formed the words, the way his tongue curled against his teeth.

 

“ **I'm right here.** ”, Louis mouthed, finally looking up. Harry turned his head to look him in the eyes. There were so many feelings exchanged in one gaze.

 

Harry's left hand came to cup Louis' face. His thumb caressed every inches he could, ruffling the stubble showing Louis hadn't shaved since they saw each other at the gala where he had been clean shaven. Harry loved him with a stubble.

 

“ **You're here, now.** ”, Harry whispered, admiring the man in front of him. “ **But you weren't here for months.** ”, he added, his broken heart showing in his irises. Louis wanted to hold him, kiss his pain away but he knew, deep inside him, that they had to say those words, had to let them out.

 

“ **I'm sorry.** ”, he said because it was the only thing he could say. He was truly sorry for everything that led them here.

 

“ **Shhh.** ”, Harry hushed. They looked at each other, Louis hoped they would kiss, but they didn't. Their eyes were glued to each other's, like a flood going from one pair to the other. There was a flow between them, a current. An electricity, a thunder. They were holding the whole world in their embrace.

 

They were life itself when together.

 

“ **I love you.** ”, Louis said, honesty written on every trait of his face, in his eyes, in the curve of his eyebrows, on the lines of his lips, on the wrinkle at the corner of his eyes. He couldn't say anything more sincere. Harry smiled, a smile tainted by sadness, Louis could see it.

 

“ **Me too.** ”, Harry whispered and then they stayed silent. The only noise they could hear were their heartbeats in their ears from their hearts beating like crazy inside their chests.

 

Louis opened his mouth but didn't trust himself to say what was tickling his tongue. He wasn't sure Harry could bear it. Nor he, for that matter. Harry traced his face one last time with his thumb then pulled his hand away. Louis whimpered at the loss.

 

“ **I was rooting for us, Louis. Since the beginning, I've been rooting for us to make it.** ”, Harry exhaled, his voice thin like a veil but covering Louis' whole body by the ampler of the meaning of the words that escaped Harry's plump lips.

 

“ **We can...** ”, Louis started when Harry cut him with his finger against his lips. Louis kissed the digit.

 

“ **Don't.** ”, Harry pleaded. He couldn't remove his hand from Louis' face, drawing Louis' lips slowly, rediscovering the outlines, the softness, the texture. He was dying to kiss him. Louis opened his mouth and let his tongue follow Harry's fingertip.

 

It was a new intimacy for them, for the people they were now. They had kissed twice since they broke up but nothing felt more intimate than this right now. Their eyes were still looking at each other, their breathing was synched, quickening when Louis licked Harry's finger. There was so much tension around them, like a bubble of want and lust.

 

Their pupils were wider now, darker also. The blinking became slower as the lust found its way through their bodies. Harry put his thumb on the inner line of Louis' lips, not entirely in his mouth, but on the edge. Just enough for Louis to lick it again with all the meaning he wanted to put in it.

 

Louis' hands found their way back to Harry thighs, caressing them slowly, from top to bottom, the lightest press of his fingertips on the inside of his thighs, near Harry's dick. He waited for Harry to tell him to stop, but he didn't say anything.

 

Harry pulled his finger out of Louis' mouth only to caress down his neck, where he wished he could kiss.

 

It was certainly stupid but Harry felt like they could do anything except kissing. It would mean too much to kiss now and so, he stopped himself from kissing the man in front of him. In hindsight, maybe it was not the best idea he could have had seeing that he was caressing Louis underneath his t-shirt now and that Louis was caressing his thighs, coming closer and closer to his now hardening cock _._ Maybe they could just kiss and talk.

 

But it wasn'tenough to kiss. They couldn't express what they were feeling with words, they had to express it physically. Put the missing, the fear, the hurt and the loneliness into a tangible form. The broken hopes, the breaking hearts, the tears and the sadness. The inevitability of them finding their way back to each other. Their bodies responded to the other's touch so heavily it was like playing music _,_ their souls attuned with each other. The chords were touched in a certain way to make a certain note. Louis pressed his thumb between Harry's thigh and pelvis and the man mewled the exact sound Louis needed to hear.

 

Maybe their minds weren't sure about being together anymore, but their bodies knew each other, knew exactly what they wanted.

 

Louis looked at Harry, his breathing erratic, his eyes glazed over, his lips open and red. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question, giving Harry the chance to stop him now, to put a stop to what was about to happen. Harry opened his mouth, no words escaping. Louis moved closer, to the point of feeling Harry's breathing against his own lips, to the point of tasting Harry's sweat, his perfume, his skin. He swore he could taste him, would recognize his taste anywhere.

 

He tasted like home.

 

They were still looking at each other, Louis' eyes casted to look at Harry's thighs, where his hand was waiting. He looked back up to Harry's eyes, waiting for an answer. Harry opened his mouth again and, this time, a moan escaped and Louis could read it in his eyes that he wanted it as much as him, he simply couldn't say it.

 

Louis sensed his mouth get dry at the idea, at the thought of finally touching Harry again. Without looking away from Harry's eyes, ready to stop at any sign or word from his love, Louis let his fingers undo Harry's belt and buttons, opening his jeans.

 

Harry guided his hands in Louis' hair, massaging his scalp, caressing his neck. He needed to touch Louis, to feel him under his palms, to make sure he was really here, with him, touching him. It had been months since the last time they had been this close, physically speaking. They had made love for the last time in this apartment, almost eight months ago. It was like completing the picture. Starting again at the end of the cycle.

 

Harry was so lost, holding onto Louis' hair, he didn't notice Louis undressing him, taking off his jeans and underwear. He was still kneeling between Harry's legs, his face on his lap. He was kissing his thighs tenderly, with passion and so much attention.

 

Harry gasped when Louis put his mouth on his shaft, licking it the way he did with Harry's finger earlier. The pleasure hit Harry like a wall, leaving him breathless and dizzy. He grabbed at Louis' hair by accident, pulling him even closer to his phallus. Louis didn't mind in the slightest, he continued to suck him slowly, with appetite and tenderness. His hands sneaked underneath Harry's t-shirt, in his back, pressing his fingers in the flesh at the bottom of his back, near his bum.

 

Harry bent over, his forehead against Louis' back, his arms cradling his sides. It must have looked weird, being cocooned like this, but to them it felt safe and familiar. It felt right, to form physically the bubble they always felt like they had belonged in.

 

When Harry eventually came, Louis stayed where he was, kissing Harry's thighs and stomach with reverence and adoration. He knew that once he stood up, the fantasy they had been granted would be gone, the reality would come back around and they would be back with the same questions and doubts. As long as he could, he would stay here, close to Harry's skin. Hoping the dream would come back to life.

 

Harry let his hands discover every inch on Louis' back, his nails leaving some red scratches on the white skin, delighted at the idea of marking Louis' body even more than it already had been. Louis sighed and finally stood straight, his eyes finding their way to Harry's face. Questions were present all around them, and none of them had any pre-built answers.

 

Harry cupped Louis' face with his two hands, his thumbs tracing the wrinkles around Louis' eyes as he smiled shyly. Their hearts were starting to calm a little, to beat normally, even though their breathing was still erratic.

 

“ **What do we do now?** ”, Louis asked, having found enough courage to put out those words that had the possibility of breaking everything apart, tear him into pieces.

 

“ **I don't know.** ”, Harry whispered, his voice strangled and they both knew it had nothing to do with his orgasm. Louis sighed and looked down, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes and finally rolling down his cheeks, his bottom lip trembling too much to mask his anguish.

 

“ **Lou, don't cry, please.** ”, Harry begged, bending over to lean his forehead against Louis' skull, he couldn't stand seeing Louis cry and not be close to him. If he could he would crawl inside Louis' skin to be even closer.

 

But he couldn't.

 

He could only sit and watch Louis come apart in front of his eyes.

 

“ **I can't...** ”, Louis started, smothered by the sobs he was fighting. “ **I can't lose you, Harry. I need you.** ”, he whispered, and Harry felt the words resonate inside his bones and soul. He was feeling the same, but he couldn't just abandon his guard and finally accept the inevitable: they belonged together.

 

He didn't know why, but a part of him was still fighting back, holding back from the opportunity. Harry put his hands under Louis' armpits and pulled him up until Louis was straddling him, the fabric of his trousers irritating his skin but he didn't mind. Not one bit. Louis linked his arms behind Harry's neck, hiding his face in the crook between the taller's shoulder and jaw. He couldn't look at him right now, not with tears and snot all over his face.

 

“ **One day, Lou.** ”, Harry started, swallowing loudly trying to keep his calm and his voice composed. “ **One day, we'll find a way back...** ”, he was cut by Louis kissing him, brutally, forcefully, his teeth hitting Harry's, his tongue fighting against Harry's. It wasn't soft and gentle as it used to be when they kissed, months ago. It was desperation and stubbornness.

 

Louis couldn't give up now. He had already given up before and it cost him the best part of himself. He couldn't bear losing himself and Harry again. Not if he could fight it. He had already made the mistake of letting Harry escape him by not doing anything, he had learned from his mistakes. He would fight it again and again until his last breath.

 

Harry, surprised, didn't move, didn't fight the kiss. He simply accepted it until something clicked inside his brain. Louis was fighting, damn it, Louis was finally fighting. Like a lightning the energy of knowing that he was being fought for hit Harry, making him surge forward finally. Harry cupped Louis' neck with his hands, pulling the man closer to him, moaning into the kiss that he was finally participating in.

 

Louis sensed the change, clasping his legs against Harry's waist, hanging onto the other man like his life depended on it and, he knew, this time it did.

 

Eventually the kiss became more composed, giving way for tenderness, passion, softness, affection and love. Harry licked Louis' lips one last time then turned his head to the side, trying to find some air again. Louis was panting, unsure of what all this meant.

 

“ **If love is not enough, then...** ”, Harry said and Louis looked at him, his eyebrows raised. “ **Then everyone is doomed.** ”, he stated, his brows furrowed in his thinking grimace. Louis put a finger between his eyes and flattened the skin with a smile. Harry blinked his eyes closed.

 

“ **Love has to be enough, Lou...** ”, he whispered, so low Louis wasn't sure what he had said but he felt hope bloom inside his chest.

 

“ **What are you saying?** ”, Louis asked, out of breath.

 

“ **What if there is no way back?** ”, Harry answered and Louis couldn't make any sense out of what he was saying. It didn't make any sense but Harry seemed driven, like he knew exactly where he was heading to. Louis let himself be guided by the man.

 

“ **What if there has never been a way back?** ”, was the next question that escaped Harry's lips. Louis didn't say anything, only listened because he didn't know what to say or what to make out of all those questions. He knew Harry, knew that it would take a moment before the man would be able to form the actual words he wanted to say. Louis could do that much more patience, he owed them both that _._

 

Harry paused for a few seconds, his hands finding the way to Louis' bum, leaving the man more skeptical than before.

 

“ **What if we are the way back?** ”, Harry finally let out and Louis tried to comprehend what he meant.

 

“ **I don't understand...** ”, he confessed and Harry laughed lightly. Louis still had his arms around Harry's neck and his legs around his waist and Harry was holding Louis by his ass.

 

Harry stood up, half naked, holding Louis up against his chest. He kissed his neck once.

 

“ **We always said that, if the chance came around, we would take it. What do you think about creating the chance this time and giving it our best?** ”, he murmured, seconds before kissing Louis again.

 

The smaller man didn't bother answering with words, he moaned into the kiss, grinding against Harry's strong body.

 

They made love in bed this time, discovering each other again, bathing in the other's warmth. They could make it happen, could fight their fate, decide who was going to win this time.

 

They were. There was no way out, no questions to ask. They loved each other purely, sincerely.

 

Love had to be enough, and if it wasn't, then, they'll be enough. Faith will have to do.

 

 

_But what do you say to takin' chances?_   
_What do you say to jumpin' off the edge?_   
_Never knowin' if there's solid ground below_   
_Or a hand to hold or hell to pay_   
_What do you say? What do you say?_

 


	13. 12.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is coming ! I feel sad and happy at the same time. 
> 
> After this chapter there will be one final chapter followed by a small epilogue. 
> 
> This is quite a long one, so be patient with me :) 
> 
> There is a sex scene, if you don't feel comfortable, don't read it. 
> 
> I've written this chapter while listening to ' Immortals' by FOB haha 
> 
> Have a good read, I hope you'll like it <3

Harry was tired, every muscle in his body was aching but not as much as his heart tonight. He had just left the stage for his last show for the month. They were currently in Milan, where the last concert was a success. Harry knew he should be thrilled, ecstatic, but, deep inside him, there was a small voice repeating always the same thing. On his good days, he could avoid it, pretend like he didn't hear it whisper to his ear. But when he was exhausted, full of doubts, like he was tonight, the little voice seemed to shout at him, and it was the only thing he could hear.

 

Harry walked backstage, discovering new muscles in his body that where aching, until he saw Jo. She was standing, her phone in her hand, typing away. She must have heard him coming because she looked up and smiled at him. He tried to mimic it, but he himself knew it was a pale copy of what he could do.

 

“ **You were amazing tonight, love.** ”, she said, honesty written in her eyes as she complimented him. He nodded, not feeling like talking to anyone. She looked at him from head to toe, worry crippling her face.

 

“ **This week will do you good.** ”, she noted, in a caring way. She opened her mouth to add something but she got cut off by a shout coming from further away backstage.

 

“ **I have to go. Take care of yourself, love.** ”, she said quickly, already walking away. The scene was being dismantled right now and the last thing they needed was something to break or go missing so Jo made it her duty to supervise it all. Harry felt relieved to know she was staying here, to make sure everything was going okay because he didn't feel like staying a minute longer. He still had to go to the hotel to pick up his suitcase, then drive to the airport, catch his flight, and drive up to his mom's house.

 

Harry could have waited until the next morning to drive there, but he didn't want to stay another night in a hotel when he could be back home in a few hours.

 

There was a car waiting for him outside the arena, and, for once, Harry was glad that there were no fans outside. He wasn't ungrateful, he always enjoyed talking to them, hugging them, listening to their stories, but tonight he hadn't had it in him. He felt empty and miserable.

 

In his hotel room, Harry picked up his suitcase which was already packed, then went back to the car waiting outside. It took him less than three minutes to be back in his seat. The driver looked at him, unsure if he should talk to the young man or not. He decided not to.

 

Harry felt like screaming when it was announced that his flight was delayed. It was already 11:00pm, if he closed his eyes, Harry knew he could fall asleep in the airport's uncomfortable chairs. An hour later, they were taking off for a two hours flights. Harry was going back home and a wave of joy came to him as soon as he saw the English soil beneath the plane. This tour had taken everything he had in him. He was tired, exhausted, empty, sad and lonely.

 

Luckily his suitcase was one of the first to come out, so he could walk to his car in no time. Jo had made sure that his SUV was parked in London for him to drive his own car. Harry didn't want to be driven around again when he could be back to being independent. Before starting the car, Harry fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed his sister's number. It went straight to voice mail. He looked at the time and muttered a 'fuck'. Gemma must already be asleep. He wanted to hear her voice so bad, to let it all out to someone who wasn't his staff. Complain to someone who wouldn't think he was being childish.

 

He hung up without leaving a message. Harry dialed a new number, closing his eyes when it went to voice mail too.

 

“ **Hi, Lou, it's me. I just needed to hear your voice, I guess. Bye. Love you.** ”, is what he said.

 

He didn't mention the knot in his stomach, the aching pain in his heart, the strain in his muscles. He didn't talk about this feeling of solitude that was eating him up. Harry hit repeatedly the steering wheel to let out his anger and dissapointment before driving away. 

 

It was really late when he parked on his mom's house’s front yard. She was certainly asleep by now. He opened the car door but stayed seated, he looked around. Everything felt familiar so he bathed in the feeling to finally be coming home again. It wasn't too long ago that he was here, but it was different. He tried to call Louis again but got no answer. Louis was in America right now, promoting his new single which made it difficult to talk on the phone or even be awake at the same time. It was very late in England, Harry guessed Louis should be awake, or already busy with journalists. He sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. He exited the car, took his suitcase out of the trunk and walked to the front door.

 

The heavy wooden door was still the same as it ever was and, yet, Harry felt really happy when he put fingers on it. He couldn't explain it, the joy to be back here felt different this time.

 

The door creaked loudly when he opened it so Harry stopped his breath, maybe to attenuate the sound, or simply to not wake his mom up. Which was pretty stupid seeing as her room was on the other side of the house. Harry had always reacted this way when he had been afraid to wake his mom up. He finally exhaled and entered the house. Everything was dark, he put his suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and walked to the kitchen trying not to knock anything over. He was pretty good at it.

 

This had been one of their favorite games with Gemma when they were children. The goal was to navigate around the house with closed eyes, the first tripping or knocking something over was the loser. They had spent hours and hours playing this together. When Louis had come around he took part in the game. Harry had been the best player with his sister, but Louis had been better. As if this house had been his. In a way it had been. He had spent so many days here, with them, that the house had become his too. Louis was a part of this home and family entirely.

 

Harry made it to the kitchen without troubles, he opened the fridge and smiled brightly when he saw a plate with a little note taped to it. “In case you're hungry. Xoxo Mom” it read. Anne had made some lasagna for him. He put the plate in the microwave and went to the terrace once it was warm enough to eat. He tripped on a garden chair, making a loud thud. He swore under his breath.

 

Harry sat down, and started to eat. He was starved since all he had eaten all day had been a granola bar Jo had handed him minutes before the show. The knot in his stomach had made it impossible to eat properly, and now he had to admit he was hungry. The lasagna tasted the same as it always did. It was a meal that tasted like childhood and past. His favorite dish. Harry took his phone out of his pocket to check if Louis had texted back or called but there was nothing. Just a stubbornly dark screen. Even though he tried to reason with himself, it still hurt. Maybe because he was vulnerable. This tour had drained him from his confidence, he knew that.

 

Those were his owns demons, he knew them completely, he was accustomed to them and this constant battling. This was a cycle he couldn't escape. Harry had tried to put a stop to it, but success was a lonely road and solitude came with his demons in tow. He knew that. He didn't relinquish to them but, at times, they were stronger than he was, he had to admit.

 

Tonight was one of those times. He was exhausted, drained from all energy, Louis wasn't around, his mom was asleep, his sister miles from here. He had hoped to talk to someone, now Harry was alone, sitting in his mom's garden, and the hurt in his heart was becoming unbearable.

 

When Harry had decided to give a new chance to this relationship, it wasn't to make the same mistakes and simply hope that it would turn out differently this time around. Harry knew that it was a difficult challenge for them, considering their respective busy schedules. He didn't want for one of them to give up on his career to be there. But, to be together some times. It had been three weeks without being with Louis, Harry couldn't go back to how it was before. Harry thought they would be able to find a balance. A balance where they would both compromise to create a sliver of time for each other. To create an oasis to exhale, spend time together and enjoy what they had and the new chance they had decided to make.

 

The balance was hard to find and to keep, Harry was aware of that, but he was willing to make the effort because he knew his own limit and, right now, he was on the edge of it. Success was a hard thing to handle. Harry was surrounded by an amazing staff, he loved his fans with all his heart, but they weren't the ones he wanted to spend the rest of his life with – not romantically, at least. Harry needed a balance, something to counter the weight of this life he was living. Something normal and dear to his heart to make it bearable. To battle those demons and their screaming voices. Harry needed something to create a melody inside him that would be louder than anything else. He thought Louis was it, that what they had could beat anything else. And, yet, Harry was sat alone, with this voice asking, again and again, 'what now?', and the worst part was that he didn't have the answer.

 

They were back to square one.

 

Louis was in America at the moment, promoting his new single, but, in a few weeks, he would fly back to England just when Harry would have to fly there to continue his tour. While Harry would be touring, performing almost every night, Louis would go back to the studio, to record his upcoming album. He would, then, have to promote it around the globe, he'd have a worldwide tour, and Harry would be back at writing and recording a new songs, and the circle would be the same again. Was it even possible to make it work?

 

He stood up, walked to the kitchen to put his plate in the sink, then straight to the stairs where he left his suitcase. Harry didn't need anything in it right now. He simply needed to sleep.

 

He smiled as he arrived upstairs, when he saw some light coming from underneath his door, Anne must have left it on for him to feel welcome. It was like at the beginning of One Direction when he was coming home late, she had always left the outside light on for him to know that they were expecting him back. Harry put his hand on the doorknob but stopped when he thought he had heard some music. He fished his phone out of his pocket. Maybe Louis was calling back. No. Nothing. Harry sighed. It was becoming harder and harder to pretend like it wasn't eating him alive. It was destroying him. Again.

 

He pushed the door open, hold his breath when he heard it creak. It had been the same when he used to escape his bedroom to to go to the garden to call Louis for hours when they were still teenagers. Or the one time they were staying at Anne's house during the X-Factor days and the boys were sleeping in the cabin at the other end of the garden. Anne had thought it would be better for Harry to sleep in his own bed. Harry had waited for his mom to go to bed, he had went to the garden – and the door had creaked as loud – to meet Louis. They had stargazed for hours, talking about their future. All the plans they had for their relationship. It had been the first time Louis had told Harry he was in love with him.

 

It may have been the best evening of Harry's life. He was still lost in those memories, walking absentmindedly to his desk to take off his rings and watch. He turned around slowly, his eyes lost in that night, years ago. It took him a moment to realize there was actual music playing, and even more to notice that Louis was sat on the bed, playing guitar.

 

Harry stopped right in his tracks, eyes opened wide, mouth opening and closing without a sound escaping his lips except a tiny gasp. The exhaustion must have been bigger than he thought if he was now hallucinating. Louis was wearing some boxers, an unbuttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves and his hair was disheveled. His fingers stopped playing with the strings, then he looked up at Harry and smiled at him.

 

Louis put the guitar on the bed, beside him, carefully.

 

“ **From what I head, you lost.** ”, Louis whispered.

 

Harry nodded but it was clear in his eyes that he was still doubting Louis' presence in his bedroom. Louis had to admit that, undressed as he was, he looked like the embodiment of Harry's favorite fantasy. Maybe it was too much to handle. Harry took a step forward, hesitating.

 

“ **Are you...** ”, Harry asked, voice trembling, thin as a veil. Louis smiled shyly and stood up.

 

“ **Yes, I'm really here, honey.** ”, he stated, extending his hand toward Harry, but the man didn't take it. He watched Louis from head to toe. Harry looked unsettled, surprised, doubting. Louis didn't know what to do. Harry seemed so tired, so lost.

 

“ **I'm right here, love.** ”, Louis murmured again.

 

Harry's legs gave out underneath him so slowly that he was getting closer and closer to the floor without really falling. It was strange to watch but Louis couldn't laugh because he understood the emotions running through Harry in that moment. The flow of emotions was too much to handle, he knew that. He walked to Harry and knelt in front of him. He took his hands in his and pulled him to his chest. Louis sat on the floor with Harry straddling him. The silence around them was full of everything left unsaid.

 

Louis caressed his boyfriend's back, trying to soothe him.

 

“ **It's me, honey.** ”, Louis said again, in Harry's ear. It appeared to wake Harry up because he suddenly laced his fingers in Louis' hair, clasped his legs around his waist. Louis held him closer, tighter to his chest. He opened his mouth to talk but he was cut by Harry kissing him, brutally. The kiss was messy, trembling. Harry moved back, in order to see Louis' eyes. They looked at each other for a few seconds, alternating between both eyes. Louis smiled.

 

Harry put his lips against Louis', without kissing him. He was simply caressing Louis' mouth, slowly, with so much care and attention. Harry started to trace the outline of Louis' lips, pulling his tongue away each time Louis tried to touch it with his. The air between them was becoming more difficult to breathe in. Harry teased Louis for another twenty seconds, then he finally met his tongue with his. They kissed properly for the first time in weeks.

 

When Harry put an end to the kiss to discover Louis' neck with his lips, Louis was left breathless and panting.

 

“ **I've missed you so much.** ”, Harry said but it sounded more like a plea than anything else.

 

There were so many things they wanted to say, so many things they needed to talk about, but, right now they couldn't. There was a fire igniting in their veins, they were burning for each other and none of them would stop until they would be totally burned out.

 

“ **I'm here. I'm right here.** ”, Louis answered, hazy from the lust rolling in on him. “ **I'm here, just here.** ”, he kept saying, his hands unbuttoning Harry's shirt, taking it off. They were both frantic now, not making any sense any more. There was a conversation held between their bodies and it was more important than anything else.

 

Harry took advantage of a moment of clearness to stand up and undress. As soon as he was naked, everything started turning again around them. Like the Earth was turning faster, or maybe it was just them. But it wasn't only about want and lust. Something different was present. Neither of them could explain it or put it into words. It was like a new star was born in their skies, a new moon was illuminating theirs nights, a new sun was shining bright on their days. Something was being put into place.

 

Their hands couldn't stop touching and caressing each other's skins. Harry had his right hand in Louis' hair and the other scratching the skin of the man's back, whereas Louis was massaging Harry's thighs and ass. Their breathing was uneven, mixed with pants and moans. Harry opened one of his desk's drawers and gave a tube of lube to Louis, not hiding what he wanted. They were both so frantic that the words got stuck in their throats.

 

Louis lubed up his fingers and tilted his head in the direction of his hand.

 

“ **Can I?** ”, Louis found the strength to ask, moaning when Harry put his hand on his dick as an answer. “ **Okay.** ”, he laughed. Harry looked at Louis, serious, his hand splayed across Louis' chest as he felt Louis play with his entrance. Harry's lips were red and puffy from him biting down his moans.

 

“ **Let me hear you, Haz.** ”, Louis stuttered, mewling right after as Harry was still stroking him to the rhythm of his fingers scissoring Harry. Harry threw his head back and let a loud moan escape his lips.

 

“ **Don't hold back, love, it's me.** ”, Louis said, his lips caressing Harry's ear on purpose.

 

Louis had always been a loud lover, there was never shame into their sexual moments, he was proud of the pleasure he was feeling, that Harry was giving him. It always struck Louis that Harry was so silent. At the very beginning, Louis hadn't trusted himself to talk about it with his young boyfriend. Until, one day, he asked. He still could remember Harry turning beet red, turning his face away from Louis. It had taken a couple of minutes until the boy finally admitted that he didn't know what to do because Louis had been his first lover. Louis had been with one girl before Harry. They had been both quite amateurs.

The next time they had had sex, Louis tried to stay focused enough to watch Harry. Louis had asked, afterwards, if he had been too loud, at which Harry had stayed quiet.

 

The bottom line was that Harry was a loud lover too, when he was feeling at ease. Louis knew it and it dazzled him that his boyfriend was now keeping his moans to himself. It meant that something was off. Deep inside Harry.

 

When he estimated that Harry was prepped enough, Louis took his fingers out. He stopped, trying to sync his breathing with Harry's.

 

Harry had his eyes closed, his hand still caressing Louis' shaft, his teeth deeply biting his own bottom lip.

 

“ **Hazza?** ”, Louis called, his voice hoarse and deep, trying to establish a connection with his lover who seemed to be out of it. Harry's head lowered but he kept his eyes closed. Louis grasped Harry's chin to tilt his head down, face to face. “ **Look at me.** ”, he whispered, almost begging. They were both totally aroused and full of lust, but something was worrying Louis and it was more important than sex.

 

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and Louis' heart broke into a million pieces. Harry had kept his eyes closed to keep away his tears from falling.

 

“ **What is it?** ”, Louis asked as fear was interlacing itself with all the other emotions flooding him right now. Harry clasped his hands on Louis' arms, holding them tight.

 

“ **I need...** ”, Harry stopped, his gaze hazy but not only because of the arousal. “ **I thought...** ”, he swallowed down a sob. Louis cupped his face, his thumbs caressing his face, and he counted with Harry from one to ten, until the other man was calmer.

 

“ **I'm here, Harry. I'm here with you.** ”, Louis whispered. He hissed when he felt Harry's nails digging in his skin under the force of his grip.

 

Harry took a deep breath, letting the tears roll down his face. He was now looking at Louis, not turning away from his gaze.

 

“ **I thought I was losing you again.** ”, Harry finally admitted, his voice breaking on the last word, leaving Louis totally helpless and breathless at the same time.

 

Hearing the words made it more real, and now it was like he was feeling Harry's fear inside his own stomach. Louis caressed Harry's thighs and back slowly, soothingly, trying to calm them both. He knew where this was coming from; he even knew this was coming if he was honest. It was Harry's way of dealing with things. Harry needed to picture it, visualize it and then put it into words. The worst part was when Harry couldn't express it. Louis knew it.

 

“ **Close your eyes, only listen to me, okay?** ”, Louis said, still caressing Harry's face. The other man nodded as he closed his eyes. Louis kissed his lips before he started talking.

 

“ **I was in America, one day, talking about my single, you know?** ”, Louis stated, not letting Harry answer. He needed Harry to listen, that was enough for now. “ **There were multiple journalists from a few magazines, and I was talking about recording new songs, working on my album, and all... A man was silent since the beginning, only taking notes. Then, he suddenly put his hand in the air, waiting to be allowed to ask me a question. I motioned for him to talk. He smiled shyly, he hesitated...** ”. Louis paused, trying a way to put the rest of his story into words. Harry crossed his arms around Louis neck and put his forehead against Louis', eyes still closed. Louis closed his too.

 

“ **So, that man, he congratulated me on my new single, told me he was a huge fan – which was nice to hear, you know? - and then came the question.** ”, Louis was now whispering, his breath landing on Harry's lips with each word. “ **He said: “ What would be the one thing in your life grounding you in this whirl of success? You always speak about love and home in your songs, are those just a concept, or are you lucky enough to have those in your life?”, you hear that, Haz? That's what he asked me. And it made me think. It made me think of you, how much I was missing you. So I made a decision in that very moment.** ”, Harry seemed calmer, drinking in Louis' words like they were water.

 

Louis kissed him once, quickly. He wanted Harry to feel his love in some way. He stayed close enough for his lips to graze Harry's as he continued speaking.

 

“ **I made the decision to stop the promo in America and come back home to you. To stop being away from you all the time. I can't handle it anymore, love. I need you near me, sleeping next to me. I want to have an every day life with you by my side. I told my manager that, from now on, I'd be doing promo and tour only when you would. This chance is ours, I refuse to let it pass us by. Do you hear me, Haz?** ”, Louis whispered.

 

Harry stayed silent for a couple of minutes, eyes closed, lips pinched in a thin line. The good thing was that he had stopped crying along the way.

 

“ **It's not about me not being able to live without you, Haz.** ”, Louis mouthed, their lips were brushing with each syllable. Louis could taste Harry's breath on his tongue, he could taste the lasagna Harry had eaten earlier. “ **It's about me not wanting to live without you.** ”, he whispered it in Harry's mouth, just before sucking his bottom lip in his mouth. Harry let himself get lost in that kiss, giving everything he was feeling in the flicks of his tongue, in the warmth of his hand as he resumed to stroking Louis, the lust having vanished momentarily.

 

Harry was landing back in the moment, realizing that he had heard Louis, had understood him. That they were on the same path.

 

“ **I love you.** ”, Harry stated, moaning lightly under Louis' touch on his thighs and ass.

 

“ **Me too.** ”, Louis said back. The lust was taking over them again, now that Harry was free to enjoy it, worry free.

 

Harry handed Louis a condom he had taken from the drawer earlier. Louis tore the package and rolled the condom down his hard shaft. Harry bit his lips as he was watching his boyfriend do so. Harry pressed their hips together when he straddled Louis again, his dick trapped between their tummies. They kissed slowly, intensely, their bodies caressing each other from the rolls they were doing under the waves of want coming down on them.

 

“ **Can I...** ”, Harry tried to talk, breathless, his mind too cloudy to find the right words. His head was rolling right and left from the pleasure he was feeling as Louis was biting the skin of his neck, fingering him again. “ **May I... Can I...** ”, Louis laughed slightly, too happy to see his boyfriend so lost in the moment to find the right words.

 

“ **What do you want?** ”, Louis growled, his voice hoarse from everything he had been feeling since the beginning of the night. Harry bit down on Louis' shoulder to smother a moan as much as possible. Louis took his fingers out, making Harry mewl at the loss.

 

“ **Can I...** ”, Harry swallowed loudly, gasping for air. “ **Can I ride you?** ”, he finally blurted out and Louis' heart skipped a beat as he understood what had been asked.

 

Harry didn't wait for an answer, holding Louis' dick with his hand, already sinking down on it, moaning freely and loudly as doing so.

 

“ **I need to feel you here.** ”, Harry purred, pleasure flowing through his veins, erasing all the hurt, taking over all the voices that deafened him earlier tonight. Louis could feel all the muscles rolling under his fingertips as Harry was swaying his hips on his cock.

 

They moved in sync, grazing the other's body, leaving some marks on the other's skin. They were writing a new chapter of their story right now, under the ink that their bodies and souls were creating.

 

As they were coming closer to cumming, Louis surged forward, sprawling Harry on the floor, weighing on him with all his strength. Louis buried himself even deeper into Harry's body. They moaned each other's names together as the world stopped spinning around them. Harry could feel Louis pulsing inside him, it was the best feeling in the world to have the embodiment of them being one.

 

Louis was still pinning Harry to the floor as they were coming down from their high.

 

“ **Are you alright, love?** ”, Louis asked, running his fingers slowly through Harry's hair, moving it out of his face and eyes. Harry looked at him, still a bit lost, but a bright smile was painted on his face.

 

“ **You beat my demons.** ”, Harry breathed, his voice too weak to convey what he really meant. Louis kissed his right eyelid with a smile.

 

“ **Your demons?** ”, he asked, curious. Harry nodded.

 

“ **When I'm alone, I'm not always strong enough to battle them.** ”, Harry stated, trying to make sense of what was happening in his mind. Louis was patiently listening to him.

 

“ **They'll always be here, they'll always try to make me lose my way. But your being and your loving are stronger than them. You beat them. They're still here, but they are really small, in the deep of my soul. And when they are smaller, my soul, heart and love can take the rest of the place and I don't feel like suffocating anymore. You make me free from them, Louis.** ”, Harry declared, strangled by his own emotions.

 

Louis kissed his lips, staying close to his face, looking deep inside Harry's eyes.

 

“ **That is the best declaration I've ever heard.** ”, Louis confessed.

 

And now, feeling calmer, Harry could put into words what had been falling into place earlier: after eight years, they had finally made their love the most important thing. They allowed themselves to become one with their lover. They acquired the necessary maturity to truly love someone for who they are because, tonight, they learned to accept themselves entirely, for who they truly were. Louis had come to terms with his sexuality and Harry with his anxiety and his demons. Nothing could be used as an excuse any more. Everything was a reason for them to make it.

 

_Sometimes the only pay off for having any faith,_  
Is when it's tested again and again everyday,  
I'm still comparing your past to my future,  
It might be your wound but they're my sutures,  
I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass  
I try to picture me without you but I can't 

 


	14. 13.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not been corrected, but I think I've waited enough time to post it. 
> 
> This is the last chapter, there will only be a small epilogue coming soon.
> 
> I hope you'll like it :) <3

Harry woke up to the sound of dishes and plates being moved from the dishwasher and into the cupboards. He sighed in contentment and rolled over, only to be shaken by the fact that there was someone else in his bed. He suddenly sat, his heart beating fast. Harry had never been the type to bring strangers home, he didn't believe in one night stands. The night before was kind of blurry in his mind, he wasn't sure what had happened. Harry tried to remember it. He knew that he had driven back home after a show in Milan... then Louis had happened. He laughed slowly once he realized it was Louis.

Louis who had been sleeping next to him all night long, making up for all the nights Harry had to spend on his own, feeling like his heart would break from missing Louis.

 

A wave of love and lust came over Harry, so he was delighted to see that Louis was naked under the sheets which covered only his bum. Louis' back and shoulders were in sight, the red marks Harry had clawed in his skin the night before were there too. Harry bent over, kissed the scratches until Louis hummed in his sleep, finally waking up.

 

“ **What 're you doin'?** ”, he asked, voice hoarse and face buried in the pillow below him. Harry kissed his way to his ear.

 

“ **Kissing you, love.** ”, he whispered, voice low but not from the sleep. Harry was close enough to see the goosebumps that appeared on Louis' skin and the shiver that shook his upper body.

 

“ **Stop.** ”, Louis muttered, rolling over, showing now is naked torso, the sheet hiding only his penis to Harry's damn. Louis was smiling now, his eyes twinkling, leaving Harry breathless. He was so in love with this beautiful man it was almost painful.

 

“ **You woke me up.** ”, Louis pouted, his lower lip sliding forward to show how upset he was supposed to be, but it was clear in his eyes that Louis was only joking. Harry kissed his mouth.

 

“ **Sorry.** ”, he mouthed, his nose touching Louis'. Harry still needed to be close to Louis, in case everything had been a dream and the man would disappear any time soon. There was still a small doubt present in Harry's mind.

 

“ **You liked what you saw that much?** ”, Louis asked, his right eyebrow raised in playfulness. Harry turned his face to the side, cheeks red. Louis felt the change in the atmosphere so he sat up, his hand holding one of Harry's. “ **Hey, babe, it's okay.** ”, Louis confessed, making sure Harry knew he wasn't upset, only joking, but Harry was still looking away. “ **Harry?** ”, Louis asked again, his voice soft and tender.

 

“ **I was making sure that you were really here.** ”, Harry said, so low it took an effort for Louis to hear it. “ **That I hadn't imagined it all.** ”, Harry added and Louis could swear he felt his own heart broke down to pieces inside his chest. He knelt on the bed, facing Harry, cupping his face for him to look back at Louis.

 

“ **Darling, I'm here. I'm here to stay. Okay?** ”, Louis consoled him, caressing Harry's face with his thumbs, never looking away from those big green eyes watching him with all the hope in the world inside them.

 

“ **Okay.** ”, Harry repeated, lacking the confidence Louis was waiting for.

 

“ **Harry, I love you, and those aren't words I'm throwing at you for no reason. I love you deeply, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's a choice I made and I'm willing to make every day until my dying breath, okay?** ”, Louis tried to make it clearer. Harry smiled shyly, and Louis knew he had won, for now.

 

“ **Okay.** ”, this time it was sincere. Louis smiled back at Harry.

 

“ **I'm going to take a shower, I'll meet you downstairs.** ”, Louis stated. He kissed Harry's lips then stood up and walked to the en-suite bathroom, making Harry whistle at Louis' ass view.

 

Harry let himself fall on the bed, burying his face in Louis' pillow, finding that his scent was back on the fabric. He sighed in happiness. A couple of minutes later, Harry walked downstairs, meeting his mum in the kitchen. He hugged her tightly. She smiled at him and hold him tightly too.

 

“ **Hello, darling.** ”, she said, emotion noticeable in her voice.

 

“ **Hi.** ”, he whispered. “ **I'm so happy to be back.** ”, he confessed, needing to put the words out there. His mom already knew it, but, in case, he preferred to say things.

 

“ **As I am for you being here, love.** ”, she said back. Anne took a step back, grabbed a cup in the cupboard and poured her son a tea. Harry sat on the worktop, feet dangling against the cupboard's door. “ **So...** ”, Anne started, she stopped, leaving it to Harry if he wanted to talk about Louis or not. Harry smiled.

 

“ **So...You knew about it, then?** ”, he asked. Anne shrugged, an enigmatic smile on her lips.

 

“ **Maybe.** ”, she answered, a laugh audible in the tone of her voice. Harry opened his mouth but they both heard footsteps on the tiles and turned to the door where Louis appeared, freshly showered. His hair was a damp mess, but he seemed bright and happy.

 

Anne put down the cup she had been holding to open her arms in which Louis ran into. Louis hold her tightly to him, inhaling the scent of this woman who had always been a mom to him.

 

“ **Hello, darling.** ”, she welcomed him. The emotion must have been too much because the only sound he made was a whimper. Louis had finally come home.

 

Louis took a step back, looked at Harry who was watching them with tenderness.

 

Harry sensed Louis struggling with all the emotions whirling inside him, so, he also opened his arms. Louis didn't hesitate for a second, he draped himself over Harry's torso, wrapping his arms around his back, hiding his face in Harry's neck. Louis had always loved being smaller than his boyfriend, it made him feel safe, protected, unarmed.

 

“ **'s okay.** ”, Harry whispered in Louis' ear.

 

And it was the exact truth : everything would be okay as long as they stay together, Louis knew that much. They were interrupted by Harry's phone ringing loudly, startling them back to reality. Harry excused himself to go to the garden where he listened to what Jo had to say. Anne poured a cup of tea for Louis, not talking, only absorbing the love surrounding them. Louis was gleaming, happiness shining from every pore of his body. He was home. Finally home.

 

Louis took the tea cup with a warm smile, his gaze stubbornly attracted by the man walking back and forth on the lawn. Anne came close to stood by Louis' side.

 

“ **Sometimes I worry about him.** ”, Louis confessed after having sipped down a gulp of hot tea. Anne hummed twice but stayed silent otherwise for a few seconds.

 

“ **I do too.** ”, she finally answered, a sad echo to her words. Louis knew what it meant to love Harry, to watch him burn so brightly you feel scared that, one day, he would burn off.

 

“ **You're his mom, Anne, it's part of your job to worry about him.** ”, Louis tried to joke even though his heart wasn't laughing. They were talking about an important part of their lives and how much it meant to them. It was absolutely no joke, they knew that.

 

“ **You're his man, it's your job to worry about him too, love.** ”, she countered with a smile spreading her lips. Harry had stopped walking, he was now sat in the middle of the garden, his fingers playing with the blades of grass underneath him.

 

“ **I don't know how to handle it.** ”, Louis said after he had cleared his throat. Anne blinked her eyes closed and put her cup on the worktop in front of them. She let out the breath she didn't notice she had been holding.

 

“ **I don't know either. He's just... Harry.** ”, she acknowledged as she opened her eyes back. Harry was still sat on the ground, but there was something shining all around him. Anne had always called it his 'aura'. It was like a web surrounding him where everyone got trapped if they came too close to the man. And sometimes it was difficult to love him because of that web. The more you loved Harry, the more it would be impossible to be without him.

 

Louis had finally understood that.

 

“ **Spending the rest of my life by his side would be enough for me. Even if, one day, I changed career, couldn't sing another song ever, it would still be enough. He gave me a reason to write songs. Because I wish to everyone to find someone like him. It happens only once in a lifetime and I almost blew it. Anne, I almost lost him.** ”, Louis had declared, almost talking to himself until he turned to Anne, showing all the fear in his irises at the thought.

 

Anne put her arm around Louis' chest, pulling him to her side. She kissed his head.

 

“ **You didn't. It's what matters. You're here now, love. Nothing else matters anymore.** ”, she whispered and Louis needed her to say it. He was here now. Here to stay. He had had the choice and he had made his decision. Now it was time to commit to it.

 

“ **Would you be okay if...** ”, Louis started to ask but Anne had already understood. She smiled warmly and pushed him slowly in the back.

 

“ **Go to your boy.** ”, she said as she turned to the living room with her tea in her hands. Louis walked to the glass door and stopped. Harry had hung up, he was leaning with his hands behind him, his face towards the sun, eyes closed. The last time Louis had seen him sat in the garden was the moment he had come to say goodbye for good. The moment they had put an end to their relationship. And here they were, back to the start, but this time love would be enough. They would be enough.

 

Louis sat down next to Harry silently, his breathing the only sound around them amongst the chirping of birds. But Harry didn't need any warning to sense his boyfriend by his side. He opened his eyes to dive into Louis' without any reserve.

 

“ **Hey.** ”, he said, smiling tenderly and Louis wanted to throw himself at Harry, kiss him breathless, smother him with love. Instead Louis smiled back, holding his hand out for Harry to give him his hand to hold.

 

“ **Hi, love.** ”, Louis answered as he sat himself down next to Harry. They stayed silent for a moment, admiring the garden and the flowers around them. So many memories came back to them, from their teenage years to their break-up almost a year ago.

 

“ **This is where I...** ”, Louis started but Harry interrupted him with his sirupy voice.

 

“ **I know.** ”, he said, his eyes still glued on the garden and the sky, a melancholic smile spreading his lips. Louis felt so many emotions at once, it was like being torn between absolute happiness and aching memories. He couldn't erase the history between them, he loved all the obstacles they had overcame. Maybe, deep inside himself, he had wished for their love to be simple and warm and without any hurtful event. They had to give away so many things for their career that Louis had always hoped for their relationship to be simple and easy.

 

“ **It's where I told you I loved you for the first time.** ”, Louis continued and ended his sentence. Even though Harry knew it all, Louis needed to say it, express it. Harry turned his head, looked at him as if he could read everything in Louis' eyes, maybe he actually could.

 

“ **It was a long time ago.** ”, Harry added, a dark veil covering his irises for a few seconds, too quick for anyone else but Louis to notice. Louis took Harry's hand in his, caressing the skin with his thumb. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

 

Louis stayed silent for a few seconds, thoughts flooded by those demons Harry had mentioned the night before. It was the first time that he had talked about it, put all his anxiety into words. Louis had always known that it had been more difficult for Harry to get accustomed to the success and the scrutiny brought by it. Louis had thought that it was due to Harry's young age.

After eight years, Harry had finally found the origins of all his doubts and hesitations; he had shared it with Louis, trusting him with the most intimate secret of his.

 

“ **Baby..** ”, Louis started, he paused, waiting for Harry to look at him, to look deep inside his eyes and soul. Harry squeezed Louis' hand then turned towards his boyfriend.

 

“ **Baby...** ”, Louis started again. His voice was low and serious, as were his eyes. “ **I know it was a long time ago, and that, deep inside, there is a small voice telling you that with time everything fades away. It probably is true. But I'm telling you today, as I did nine years ago, I love you. I am tremendously and undebatably in love with everything you are. Even when you are sitting in your garden, doubting everything we are, and were.** ”, Louis declared, love and affection present in every words he said. Harry took a deep breath in.

 

“ **How did you know?** ”, he asked. Louis smiled tenderly.

 

“ **Because I have lived with you, I have failed with you, I have succeeded with you. Because I've loved you for many years and, mainly, because you've loved me back and gave me your trust and hope. I've always known that it was more difficult for you to handle all the craziness of the success we had. I simply thought it was because you were younger, because you were my baby. I never imagined it was because something inside you was eating at you. I never pictured those demons you talk about, until today. I watched you from the kitchen, then it hit me in the face. You have battled them alone for years, and I'm sorry.** ”, Louis stopped to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. The emotion writing itself on Harry's features was felt by Louis as if it was his own.

 

“ **I'm sorry I didn't know better, sorry I couldn't see it before. I'm sorry I left you battle them on your own.** ”, Louis added as Harry kissed him rapidly to make him stay quiet.

 

“ **It's okay.** ”, Harry stated and he seemed sincere. Louis smiled to him again.

 

There was a turmoil dancing around in Louis' chest, leaving him restless and unsure. And, yet, Harry looked calm, at peace with everything. Harry laid down on the grass, his hand still holding onto Louis'. Louis hesitated before imitating him, his gaze up to the blue skies above them. The birds were chipping, a little wind was agitating the leaves in the smallest motion. Watching the garden being the same as many years before was like being taken back to this simpler times where the only trouble they had was how to tell each other about their love.

 

Harry closed his eyes, sincerely happy. Whenever Louis was with him, it appeared that his demons were quiet, or asleep. Everything was made easier by Louis' presence.

 

Louis, on the other hand, was watching Harry, admiring his traits become appeased, calmer.

 

“ **Boys?** ”, Anne called. The only one who turned towards her was Louis, Harry almost asleep from the peace he was finally tasting.

 

“ **What do you feel about a picnic for lunch? In the garden.** ”, Anne proposed, Louis nodded with enthusiasm. She smiled and went back inside. Louis turned again to Harry, he moved closer to his boyfriend, his chest to Harry's side, his face in Harry's neck where he kissed him once. Instinctively, Harry put his arm around Louis' smaller body, pulling him even closer. From the corner of his eye, Louis saw a smile spread Harry's lips. He put his mouth to his ear to whisper.

 

“ **What are you smiling about?** ”, he asked, his lips grazing Harry's ear on purpose. Harry dug his fingers into Louis' hip.

 

“ **Nothing. I'm happy.** ”, Harry stated, his answer more sincere than ever before. Louis could cry from relief and happiness. Harry was happy, truly happy, and that's what he had prayed for since he had met the boy. To finally see him deeply happy.

 

“ **Do you ever want to get married?** ”, Louis inquired, curious. Harry hummed but stayed quiet for a few seconds, like he was genuinely thinking about the question. As though they had never talked about it before. As though they never had talked about it when Harry was still sixteen.

 

“ **Yes. You know I'd want to.** ”, Harry stated, not opening his eyes. Louis nodded, bathing in the comfortable silence between them.

 

“ **With me?** ”, Louis lisped, a laugh audible in the inflexions of his voice. Harry laughed as well, his body shaken against Louis'.

 

“ **I'm not sure, maybe not.** ”, Harry answered, still laughing. Louis grunted but he was still smiling, his heart beating with joy in his chest. After that they stayed silent, listening to the other's breathing, feeding on the other's presence.

 

“ **Will you marry me?** ”, Louis asked, under his breath, slow enough to sound like a secret but loud enough for Harry to gasp as soon as he made sense of what he heard.

 

It wasn't really a surprise proposal, they had talked about it multiple times, over the years. Maybe the moment was surprising because Louis had always thought he would propose in a moment full of passion, maybe right after having made love to his man, or after an argument. He had always thought he would ask Harry to marry him at a moment full of strong emotions, at the epitome of their love. But, finally, what better moment than this one, where they are both happier than ever, when they are finally at peace with themselves.

 

“ **Yes.** ”

 

_'Cause where I am_   
_Is where you begin_   
_You picked up the pieces_   
_And put me together_   
_You're the only part of me unbroken_   
_And I'm going in circles_

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is it, the end of this story. 
> 
> It's been harder and longer than I ever thought it would be. It simply started as a few pages that I wrote one day, out of boredom. Thanks to my friend Eve, everything came together. She understood me and this story. She loved those characters as much as I did, she cherished this story as much as I did and it made all the difference. Eve, if you read this : thank you very much, love. You made magic ! <3
> 
> I hope the tears we shed together were worth it and that you'll like the ending as much as the rest. 
> 
> I'll see you with another story soon, I hope. Take care of yourselves ! <3
> 
> P.S : Eve didn't correct it yet, so, sorry for the mistakes that may be present.

The garden was quiet, the summer breeze ruffling the leaves and the dresses of the women sat on the wooden chairs on the terrace. A small bird, perched on the highest branch of the weeping willow reigning in the middle of the grass, was singing away, creating a soft melody echoing in everyone's heart.

 

Gemma walked out of the kitchen, bearing a tray of colorful drinks which she put slowly onto the table.

 

“ **Did you make them yourself, darling?** ”, Anne asked, impressed by the look of the glasses, different layers of colors on top of the others, looking like a slice of summer turned liquid.

 

“ **Of course.** ”, Gemma said with a sly smile on her face. She was always the one who made drinks on every occasions that's why she was tenderly mocking her mom; but she knew that Anne was trying to make conversation so she kissed her forehead once her hands were empty.

 

“ **Are they ready?** ”, Anne inquired, and Gemma could see the stress present in the lines on her mom's face. She patted her mom's shoulder.

 

“ **It will be okay, mom. Give them time.** ”, Gemma said, her voice kind and warm. Anne nodded. Harry appeared at the kitchen's door, a white shirt - unbuttoned to the third button- with ample arms and a knot in place of the collar. He was also wearing a black vest with black pants. He looked dashing, very elegant. His hair was brushed back, soft curls falling on the side of his head.

 

“ **Oh, god, you're so handsome, darling.** ”, Anne said, one hand to cover her mouth in surprise. Harry turned on himself with a enormous smile splitting his face in two.

 

“ **Not bad, uh?** ”, he stated, twirling again, opening his arms as he did so, exposing his whole outfit to his mom. Gemma walked toward him, made him turn again while whistling.

 

“ **Almost perfect, baby brother.** ”, she teased him. Harry didn't answer, he hugged her tightly, conveying with this gesture all the emotion that was flooding him in this moment, surrounded by his family and friends. Anne, overwhelmed by everything she was feeling at once, stayed sat, watching her children hug.

 

As Gemma took a step back from her brother, she saw Louis from the corner of her eye, walking in their direction. He was wearing a midnight blue suit with a white shirt, his hair swiped back, a little stubble shaping his jaw.

 

“ **Oh, look at you, gorgeous!** ”, she exclaimed, surprising Harry who hadn't seen Louis coming. He turned to his boyfriend, joy gleaming in his eyes.

 

“ **So, he's gorgeous, and, me, your brother, am only almost perfect. I see how it is around here.** ”, Harry stated, marching to his mom, sitting next to her in fake sulking. Louis and Gemma laughed. Anne seemed happiest, surrounded by her three children.

 

An hour later, everyone was sat on wooden chairs in the middle of the garden, underneath the weeping willow, with Harry and Louis standing in front of everyone, facing the minister. There were no sounds except from the birds and the minister reciting his part. Harry and Louis were stood only meters apart, their eyes finding the other's more often than not. Anne was on the verge of crying even though she was biting her bottom lip to keep quiet.

 

“ **You may exchange your vows.** ”, finally said the minister. The husbands-to-be faced each other, emotion and love overcoming their senses but they tried their best to keep it together. Louis cleared his throat multiple times before starting to talk. He was the first one to read his vows, because he knew that when Harry would be done with his, Louis would be crying too much to talk clearly.

 

“ **Harry.** ”, Louis started, his voice trembling as much as his hands. “ **Since I met you, I've always been spellbinded by the way you are able to love. I've always struggle with love, I think. Perhaps because I've always thought love was about giving in order to receive. Then, you appeared in my life and I've watched you only give for the sake of giving and loving. The fact that my father wasn't around in my life, it kinda made me think that love was not enough. Because he had to love me, right? But all I had were memories. I tried my hardest to grip onto moments and memories, to keep them near, at arm's length. Because I needed to have those. But you, my sweet sixteen years old boy, you didn't mind for those moments to fly away and disapear because you never intended to keep them. You love for the joy of loving. That made me a better man.** ”, Louis declared slowly, admiring the impact of his words on his future husband's face. Harry had pink cheeks and watery eyes by now. “ **Your love had an impact on me I didn't know it could. You loved me for who I am, not expecting anything else, not wanting me to change in any way. For years, I've struggled with the way I look, the way I am. Being recognized by strangers, being scrutinized at any moment, everything added on the pile of my struggles. I've hated my body for a while, not being able to accept that I look the way I do and that it was not an issue. Now, when I look in the mirror I don't resent who I am or what I look like. Because...** ”, Louis stopped, flooded by the emotion and the tears coming to the corner of his eyes at the thought of this whole process he had been through. Harry took his free hand in his, as shook up as Louis was.

 

A wave of emotion crushed on all the guests watching those two young men profess their love to each other with so much purity it was hard for everyone to breathe.

 

Louis coughed once, trying to make sure his voice would stop trembling. It was a lost fight, he knew it.

 

“ **Because you never made me feel like I wasn't enough.** ”, he stopped, one tear rolling down his cheek, but he did not wipe it away, those emotions were valid and pure. He wasn't ashamed of all the obstacles he had overcome in the last few years, stronger now than he had never been before. Harry's love being the best base to build himself upon.

 

“ **With you it was easy to stop judging myself, to let my flaws be and accept them for what they were : the proof that I am human and therefore fallible. Here I am now, standing in front of all our friends and family, accepting the fact that I am, in fact, gay, and that there is no shame in the sentiments I have for you.** ”, Louis stopped again, looking at his feet for a few seconds, letting go of the shame that lived deep within him for years at the idea to be in love with another man. “ **I am sorry, Harry. Deeply sorry for all the time I've wasted. I love you. And, right now, right here...** ”, Louis stopped again to look at Anne and Gemma and all the persons sat there, watching them. “ **Right here, I swear to love you, protect you, adore you, let yourself burn as bright as you already do and never feel left aside. I swear to be by your side, no matter what, but also to be your first critic if need be. I swear to you to share my life, and everything it includes, because this is enough. You being here, chosing me, and me chosing you over and over again is enough.** ”, Louis said, tears rolling down his face but he was smiling, his eyes glistening with love and happiness. Harry was still holding Louis' hand in his, caressing his sking with his thumb, his eyes swallowing everything coming from Louis. He wasn't crying, he was extatic, drunk on the love Louis declared to him in front of all those people.

 

Harry dived and drowned himself into Louis' eyes long enough for the Minister to touch his arm, startling back to reality. Harry laughed, joined by their friends and family. Louis couldn't look away from his husband-to-be's face. Harry turned to the left to say he was sorry, he simply lost himself in the moment. He turned back to Louis, the same smile on his lips since the beginning of the ceremony.

 

“ **I'm back, sorry.** ”, Harry declared, clearing his voice twice under the laughs around them. It was good that they still could laugh between the emotions. Harry was still caressing Louis' hand with his thumb, calming him in a way, calming himself too by touching the man he loved so much.

 

“ **I guess it's my turn, now.** ”, Harry tried to joke but the emotion Louis could read in his eyes and hear in his voice couldn't fool him, they were trembling to the same rhythm. Once everyone was quiet again and the only sound surrounding them were the bids chirping, Harry knew it was his moment.

 

“ **Louis...** ”, he stated, his eyes locked to Louis'. “ **You know I love you and how much I love you. Our friends and family do too, or, else, they wouldn't be here today, so I'm not gonna declare to you how much you mean to me. You already know, and I have the rest of our lives to tell you. No, today , I'm here for another reason. I'm here to swear to you that this marriage is not a trap nor a cage. I love you with everything I am, and I know you do too. Like you said, you chose to be here with me as much as I chose to be standing here, right in front of you. We made that choice nine years ago and we made it over and over again every day since. My pledge to you, today, is the promise that, if one day, you choose to stop being with me, I will not stop you. I will not force you to stay, nor will I use this marriage as a reason to make you stay. Whatever makes you happy, I will accept it. Even if it not with me anymore. I promise to cherish you, everything you are, as long as I breathe. Even though I don't know how to live nor be without you, I promise to accept every decision you will make and to stand by you, until the end of times.** ”, Harry declared, his voice trembling with every word, his hands shaking as well, Louis could feel it from their touch.

 

The Minister took a deep breathe, looking around to make sure everyone was listening to what he was about to say.

 

“ **I, now, declare you husband and husband.** ”

 

Louis got on his tippy toes to kiss Harry with all the love that was smothering him in this moment. There had been so many moments he had thought they wouldn't make it, had thought that the world had won. And here they were, kissing passionately in front of their loved ones, exchanging vows and promises. They had made it. They had overcame all the obstacles. And here they were, married to each other after nine years of a love they hadn't known could exist. It had been the most difficult and demanding journey they could ever make. They could have given up a thousand times, but they had not. Nobody said it was easy... because if it was easy, anybody would do it. They weren't anybody. They were Louis and Harry, and they made it together, as a team. Maybe love isn't enough but, sometimes, around the corner, you find a love which is stronger, better, more demanding than anything else and this love is worth everything.

 

They were finally home.

 

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_ __  
_Darling so it goes_ __  
_Some things are meant to be_ __  
_Take my hand, take my whole life too_ _  
_ _For I can't help falling in love with you_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add tags along the way to not spoil anything. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, even a negative one :D


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